Poor people blue
Right now my eyes are craving the sight of bright green things. Actually, my eyes are getting wierd in my old age. Have any of you noticed that your color pallette changes after you hit, say, fifty? I have always loved a pastel garden. Blues, pinks, lavendars and whites. Perfect! Well, the last few years I am loving bright purples, golds, wierd blues.
That reminds me, I suddenly had the need to have the bee hives in the garden
painted. When I was a tadpole, we used to visit a family that was poor. At
least I thought they were. Barefoot in winter, runny noses, stringy hair,
mouths a dull gray all around and a kitchen painted the most hideous shade
of blue you can imagine. You recoiled when you first went in, until your
eyes adjusted, then you shut them just to protect yourself. Flies decorated
the walls and oil cloth covered table like they were going to a rock concert. Your lips were tightly sealed lest the flies penetrate your mouth. Think of where all they had been. The smell of a slop bucket in the corner caused you to step back against Daddies leg and cling to it for protection. It was an assault against all your senses. The color was always 'poor people blue' to me after that. I detested it. Someone gave my daughter a sweater of that color when she was small and I never wore it on her. I threw it out. Talk about imprinting. Well, you guessed it. The bee hives are now a glorious shade of 'poor people blue'!!!!!!! It is electric!
Poor Liz, my garden helper, stopped by yesterday for a few fish for her pond. As she rounded the corner of the tea room she just about stood on my feet as she backed up to get away from the brightness coming from the far side of the garden. Not too
sure she appreciates the richness yet. She's not fifty you know. She'll have
to grow into it. Mature into wild colors. It's a gift for getting ancient!
My dining room looks like a gypsy caravan. All kinds of wild colors. When I
was recuperating there after my knee surgeries in the bed we set up by the window, I awoke every day, if I was lucky, to a riot of color. I adore it. Think I'll paint some crows walking across the top of the double doorway wearing poor people blue
scarves!!!!
That reminds me, I suddenly had the need to have the bee hives in the garden
painted. When I was a tadpole, we used to visit a family that was poor. At
least I thought they were. Barefoot in winter, runny noses, stringy hair,
mouths a dull gray all around and a kitchen painted the most hideous shade
of blue you can imagine. You recoiled when you first went in, until your
eyes adjusted, then you shut them just to protect yourself. Flies decorated
the walls and oil cloth covered table like they were going to a rock concert. Your lips were tightly sealed lest the flies penetrate your mouth. Think of where all they had been. The smell of a slop bucket in the corner caused you to step back against Daddies leg and cling to it for protection. It was an assault against all your senses. The color was always 'poor people blue' to me after that. I detested it. Someone gave my daughter a sweater of that color when she was small and I never wore it on her. I threw it out. Talk about imprinting. Well, you guessed it. The bee hives are now a glorious shade of 'poor people blue'!!!!!!! It is electric!
Poor Liz, my garden helper, stopped by yesterday for a few fish for her pond. As she rounded the corner of the tea room she just about stood on my feet as she backed up to get away from the brightness coming from the far side of the garden. Not too
sure she appreciates the richness yet. She's not fifty you know. She'll have
to grow into it. Mature into wild colors. It's a gift for getting ancient!
My dining room looks like a gypsy caravan. All kinds of wild colors. When I
was recuperating there after my knee surgeries in the bed we set up by the window, I awoke every day, if I was lucky, to a riot of color. I adore it. Think I'll paint some crows walking across the top of the double doorway wearing poor people blue
scarves!!!!
posted by Prudence at 7:56 PM
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