Feb 29, 2008 :: Secondary Contrast. El Myr bathroom, L5P
In my head I can hear the little color song we learned in elementary school art class. "Red, yellow and blue. Red, yellow and blue. The first three colors, the primary colors, are red, yellow and blue." Miss Booth, a soft, be-aproned woman taught us this, in the big old room at North Dearborn Elementary--the room that smelled of melted crayons and wet clay. Unfortunately, even given the second verse of the song, no matter how much my rational mind knows that purple and yellow are opposites on the color wheel, I cannot make that right in my head. Never have been able to. Green and purple work so much better against one another (a solid 8 and 7, respectively, in my synesthesia-addled mind). And when the two colors are together, I want a picture. Or, as the reality may be soon, a house painted in those two colors. (Well, sort of. The main color will be "vintage map," a sea-soft blue-green so institutional I can nearly smell the floor wax and ditto ink. But the trim, that's going to be purple. Way purple.)
Anything's better than lemon yellow. I nearly lose my lunch every time I see the exterior of my butter-colored house. As much as I love purple and green, I can't tolerate yellow. Maybe that's my problem--and why I can't just follow the song?