"I watched as the purple tendrils began to twist around the orange rays pouring out of the still falling sun. They seemed to strangle the light that was trying to break free, if only for a few more seconds. Though the thoughts in my own head were morbid and twisted to the depiction in front of me, I could find beauty in the purple’s act of suffocation. It was putting the glowing sun out of its misery quickly - quicker than it wanted to, but it was still for its own good. The purple strangulation made everything beautiful again; it made the death seem reasonable, and better than if it had just dropped out of the sky for no reason quicker than a blink of time. The purple was a necessary element, and when the orange finally accepted that, the night sky was able to prevail, purple bowing out gracefully for something darker. And then, everything was okay again. I observed it all diligently, my body calming inside the van for however long the process took to unfold. I knew that Gerard was the purple and I was the orange. In our entire relationship, ended or not, we had always been colors dancing around each other. He had been the blue, throwing over me and making me become something other than just mere shades of a person. Blue was bold and bright and the color of dreams that fell from the same coloured sky. He was blue, but he changed many forms. A rainbow and kaleidoscopic chameleon. I remembered the night I placed my handprint on his door – his black door. It was the abyss into nothingness that I tainted with yellow. I was yellow then, like the glowing sun that helped things grow. Like the butter that was warm and kept things warm, but too little to be by itself. I needed something with me, I needed his black in the backdrop to make my handprint shine through, and so I could grow. I was never the person or color that helped anything else grow, I realized then. It had always been Gerard who brought life into things, into nature, and into people. He had been green that day; one of the many colors of life. He had always been green for me, and other people too. He was the grass inside Vivian’s picture of her baby as the flower, too dispersed to mean anything solid, and if gotten too overbearing, could be cut away. He grew on people – you may not like him at first, you may walk all over him, but eventually, you appreciated his presence. He made everything that once used to be covered in dirt spectacular and alive again. He was the grass growing and spilling over top everything because spring was upon us. I may have been yellow, but it certainly wasn’t to heal or help things bloom into life. I was yellow to be yellow. I didn’t know what it meant exactly yet. Comme le soleil interminable. Like the never-ending sun." [Evelyn Deshane - "The Dove Keeper"]
Posted on: Thu, 19 Sep 2013 22:20:53 +0000