I remember my children, when they were in kindergarten, learning, and then singing endlessly, a song that included the words "All the colors that we know...live up in the raaainnnboooww"
It is raining a little today and that means that the bright yellow of the forsthia is absolutely dazzling against the new spring greens in the yard.
When I was a child, my best friend and I used to walk "downtown"...about 3 blocks...on Saturdays, clutching our allowance money, to Woolworth's. We always ended up buying paper dolls. But again and again I found myself lingering by the sewing-materials department, where there was a large display of thread, all arranged by graduated colors. Coates & Clark, I think was the brand of thread. Is it truly weird that a 10-year-old child was each week tempted to spend her entire (small) allowance on spools of thread, just so she could look at the colors?
I was puttering today in one of the guest rooms of my house, and happened on this pillow:
Several years ago, I went into a yarn shop and spent my allowance on a batch of crewel yarn in all shades of reds and oranges and pinks; then, using a postcard photo of a Georgia O'Keeffe painting of a poppy, I created this pillow. It took a long time! But I remember the satsfaction of combining those wonderful colors:
I think I made this at about the time I was writing "Gathering Blue" in which the main character, Kira, is doing the same kind of colorful needlework.
I am rarely in the sewing department of a store these days. (Is there such a department anymore?) But I still linger in towel departments, entranced by the gradations of color. And if you turn me loose in a hardware store you will never find me by the screwdrivers or insecticides. No: I am always hanging out with the paint chips.