The Blues is blue, right? When you’re feeling down and out, depressed, sad…it’s a blue feeling. It’s dim and dusky like a back table near closing time in a smoky bar. The blue hangs in the air like stale cigarette smoke.
Happiness and joy must be the glaring whiteness of a noon sun on new snow or maybe the bright softness of a field of yellow flowers.
Greed and envy, for some reason, share the green of new grass. It’s a green-eyed monster and the color of old money. Does a miser take on the hue of old bills and give off a mist of emerald gas?
We associate emotion and color in so many ways. I’ve always wondered, though, what color is alone? Take out your box of crayons and life’s coloring book and look for the picture of yourself in a crowd, the lost pebble that is a solitary person surrounded by a sea of people, their conversations and associations washing over you. Which color are you? Turn the page and find the picture that reminds you of the lonely nights when you’re isolated in your room or your car and absolutely no one is near.
What color is your loneliness? Which crayon is in your hand to outline the disconnect you feel or fill in the spaces of your need?
What color is the emptiness when you can’t hear a familiar voice, or you don’t even have the echo of a memory of the last “hello”…or “goodbye”?
What color is the place where you can’t feel the touch?
What color is heartache?
What color is alone?
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