I was presented with a box of crayons with multitudinous colors to choose from.Overwhelmed with awe I stare from the range of Rainbow shades to shades as subtle as colors of an unicorn’s hair.
The citrine yellow,mahogany brown,cinereous gray,chartreuse green,ochreoua orange,pansy purle,cinnabar red and what not.Yet surpassing the temptation I unconsciously pick up the color black.Yes. The absolute heroic black. Why? I ask myself too. I have been pondering ever since and have chalked down some reasonable explanations for my borderline obsession with this color. So. Lets find out?
The reason for my steadfast devotion to this particular color is somewhat full of quandary. Flashing of bright colors rankles me and makes me cringe.Though I place no credence in association of religious commodities to something as disparte as colors.Now to explain why I am in love with this color is an ordeal.The most brusque way to say it is it represents a part of me.This is the color of my veneer.Not the outer disguise, but the inner one. It represents the part of me which I’m very much aware exists but always am in constant denial of accepting it gracefully.This color resides in the deepest corners of my hearts desires.This color is the fragile little 18 year old girl, a vulnerable figure who has prepared herself for the relentless suffering for her art.Well, happiness never made art,right?
Now,now this may be a lot to take in especially when my color has been notoriously associated with bellicose paraphernalia, it can’t be overlooked that it carries a deep symbolism to it.
It is the only color I can truly personify myself through.
●Maintaining its individuality black never hesitates to blend in with different colors, only to highlight their beauty ten-folds.
●It unfailingly provides peace.
I choose black because I am mute-ly mourning for the person I used to be.I look back and laugh at how ridiculously fast my life has changed, or maybe how I have changed.