Discussion in 'Race Relations/Racism' started by eagleseven, Dec 17, 2009.
Did Roy G. Biv give you permission to use his name?
I suppose it depends on my mood.
My bedroom was blue when I was a boy; it was a Homeric sea of dreams and glory. Every time I see water that is close to that colour I fall in love. I want to, need to, must live there, for a time. That is why I am in WA right now. That is why I have have traveled here and there for so long. Searching for that blue.
Like Vincent van Gogh I love light, gold or yellow; no matter how bad the previous day has been when that morning gold comes through the curtains I thank God I can begin again.
I love the night too; the still black and silver slivers of stars, many nights I lay on my drive way with my son and soak in the mystery of being a tiny existence in a great mystery.
And their is no colour of woman I do not lust after nor want to make love to: to love.
I suppose it all depends on my mood.
I remember being asked this question as a kid. I drew a blank. I thought wtf kind of question is that.
When I turned 40 I grew a pony tail, got a tattoo, pierced my ear, and picked a favorite color. Never felt so alive.
Eventually I cut my hair and the ear has grown over. The tattoo is still there. Whenever I see my favorite color I think back to that stupid question I so often faced in my youth. I'm no longer afraid.
I like them all, but purple or any shade there of. It is OK in nature, but anywhere else? No thanks. Bleech.
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