Seeing Red

On my walk this morning, I thought about a note that one of my colleagues sent me yesterday.  He is an artist, and wrote that a few years ago, he was trying to paint the vibrancy of a particular color he was seeing in some flowers.  He found he was not successful until he "subdued everything else."   

Red is a primary color, but as I walked, I began to wonder how often I really do see true red.  Now, I am generally walking in a suburban landscape, so in many ways, my environment is not what one might describe as  natural.  Nonetheless, as I walked, I realized that I seldom experience a solitary color.  For example, I might see yellow flowers juxtaposed with blue ones. And then there are the green leaves.  In other words, I usually see color in relationship with other colors.  This morning, when I was putting my old fuchsia jacket over my grey shirt, I thought, "I really like these two colors together."  While I was seeing individual colors, I was also seeing them in relationship with each other. There is probably quite a bit going on in the brain when we see two or more colors together, and I don't think any of us experience color in the same way.  The same can be said of patterns.  If the colors are complimentary, I sometimes enjoy seeing combinations of stripes, dots, even plaids.  I have a dear friend who cannot stand the idea (I will say that she has what I consider excellent taste. I think I fall a bit off that lofty mark.)

So, as I walked this morning, I looked for a true red.  I found that many flowers that I might initially describe as red do have some pink or blue in their coloration, and these colors seem to be what the iPhone highlights.  Towards the end of the walk, I came across this red rose.  It seems to be about as close to true red as I will probably see in this neighborhood, and I think the light was conducive for photographing it.  

Unless we are taking part in something really experimental, most of us generally prefer harmony in music and art.  It seems to me that we can best hear music when notes and rhythms are in relationship with one another.  I think the same organizational relationship is true of color. Music has a circle of fifths; color can be mapped with the use of a color wheel. 

 

For the past few years, I have let color guide my walks.  When a color catches my eye, I will generally try to get closer to it.  I will walk across the street or down the block just because a color beckons.  Certainly, light plays a big part in how we experience color, but I am already out of my depth.  However, this morning I was reading a book that a friend recently gave me: The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr.  Father Rohr writes, "Remember, light is not so much what you directly see as that by which you see everything else (14)." He also comments that "what looks like darkness to the human eye is actually filled with tiny particles called 'neutrinos,' slivers of light that pass through the entire universe."  Amazing.  A universal sliver of light lasts long enough to allow one befuddled artist to gaze upon one red rose in wonder, and then journeys on.      

  

And God saw the light was good...

Genesis 1:4