Monday, October 5, 2009
a grey on grey kind of day
grey. a cello is grey, the sound, I think. and the sky at night, I think no matter what, it’s always grey, either with clouds, or split in half with white stars against black that by dawn will at some point teeter along the line of dawn and merge to grey before giving into light. quiet is grey. grey answers probably hold the most truth because they consider all sides. grey fabric on a clothes line, a faded grey photograph, a grey ocean on a sad day, grey stones, grey cats, grey grace, grey salmon scales, grey moth wings hovering in grey wool. raspberries and turmeric, the blues (does she mean music or paint?...), grass stains on white linen. grey could quite possibly be the most necessary of all colors, against which the rest of the world gives into song.
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the birds are at it again today, drunk on crabapples and splashing madly in the fountain outside the window. i don't dare open the door... after their wild routine, they veer off and there is a steady stream of thumps, and feathers left on the glass. grey feathers... these birds are the color of the stones, except for the band of yellow at the tip of their tail feathers. i love the grey stones and these crazy drunken grey birds!
ReplyDeletetwo of my best friends in the world, phil and wilson, having a conversation one time: "phil, everything is black and white to you. you love it or you hate it, it's this way or it's that way, period". "yes, but wilson, to you everything is gray. to you nothing is defined, everything is open to interpretation."
ReplyDeleteTwo temptations -- one is to ask the difference between "grey" and "gray" and the other is to note that grey (gray) contains all the colors, in differing amounts. It's the most glorious color to mix with oils because you can get anywhere with it.
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