Fondling The Pink Parts
It's race weekend again. This one will be short (3 miles) but cold (29 degrees) and muddy (ten hours of rain and still falling). But last night I dreamed I scared away a kidnapper with just a whisper so I feel like I can handle a little messy trail. Must be the full moon. I wore pink today because it is my Big Deal color. I know most people associate pink with softness and femininity but I associate it with powerful things that are taken for granted. It doesn't make me think of bumble gum and little girls with hair ribbons, it makes me think of sex and deep undercurrents and slowly building sentiments that turn into global movements. I guess it has become my power color. It slips in while you are paying attention to other things and penetrates before you realize it. I think of subtle aggressions and naughty words. You know the one. I think of women in Scotland who still practice moonlight rituals in barefeet and men with brandy on their breath who can smell your pink from across the room. I think of shamans and new skin after a scab falls off--still ripe with its own healing powers. Obviously I don't find anything cute or candied about it. I find just the opposite and quite ironically, considering how long it was my most hated color and rejected in all forms. Now look at me feeling like a pink Powerpuff Girl. I want someone to paint me on the hull of a fighter jet in a peignoir. I think I understand, just a little, the myth of the moon phase turning men into werewolves. It changes women too; with all the extra virility but without all the extra knuckle hair.
My Language Art today is a pink statement of seduction.
Don't you just want to slide your hand into these crevices? Don't you want to know what lies between these pages? Aren't your eyes drawn to the deeper pink gaps between them? There are curves and undulations. There are layers and gentle puckers. You're sure they must feel warm to the touch, aren't you? Of course you are. The pink spaces between beckon and insinuate, don't they? It's not just a stack of paper anymore. It's an interest, a compulsion, maybe even a need. If it was white it would just be a stack of paper and probably wouldn't spark the same interest. That's why pink is a power color. It hints and conjures. Yes, like a woman but also like other things of the earth that linger in between two colors. Just enough red to beguile. Just enough white or yellow or brown to relate.
The Magic Tea Cup showed me a tropical fish this morning but it was too faint to photograph well. The type of tea I drink seems to affect how dark the leavings are in the bottom of the cup. The stronger the tea, the lighter the image. The more floral and herbal the tea, the darker the image. I'm having Lady Grey this morning because the bergamot tingles my pink tongue. I wish I had something pink to wear as I run through the woods tomorrow. I always wear black when I race because my juiciness is so photogenic. Maybe it's time for some creativity in this arena. I swear if I had a pink superhero cape or a tutu I would consider it. I want there to be flashes of something pink through the trees that observers might not be sure they really saw. It's not about the costume. It's about creating something intriguing in the dark, cold, muddy woods that will catch the eyes of someone who thinks his/her eyes must be playing tricks. Did you see that? I could have sworn I saw something pink through the trees. Must be seeing things. Mmhmm. Exactly. I want you to think you saw some pink parts beckoning from deep in the forest. Come investigate. Get wet and cold and dirty and leave the trail looking for that pink. Get a little confused and a little scared but be sure you smell something and then there it is again! Something pink--over there, see it? What is that? Go deeper. Find it.
Sirens, mermaids, woodland fairies, ladies in the lake, crones in caves, bearers of scarlet letters and gypsies with mysteries. Sorceress, temptress, goddess. Don't fool yourselves that we aren't werewolves too, ladies. It's all the same appetite in prettier packaging. Last night as I slept I vanquished the bad guy without ever touching him and then went out for pizza. The power of pink needs no bravado.
(c) 2012, ACG
My Language Art today is a pink statement of seduction.
Don't you just want to slide your hand into these crevices? Don't you want to know what lies between these pages? Aren't your eyes drawn to the deeper pink gaps between them? There are curves and undulations. There are layers and gentle puckers. You're sure they must feel warm to the touch, aren't you? Of course you are. The pink spaces between beckon and insinuate, don't they? It's not just a stack of paper anymore. It's an interest, a compulsion, maybe even a need. If it was white it would just be a stack of paper and probably wouldn't spark the same interest. That's why pink is a power color. It hints and conjures. Yes, like a woman but also like other things of the earth that linger in between two colors. Just enough red to beguile. Just enough white or yellow or brown to relate.
The Magic Tea Cup showed me a tropical fish this morning but it was too faint to photograph well. The type of tea I drink seems to affect how dark the leavings are in the bottom of the cup. The stronger the tea, the lighter the image. The more floral and herbal the tea, the darker the image. I'm having Lady Grey this morning because the bergamot tingles my pink tongue. I wish I had something pink to wear as I run through the woods tomorrow. I always wear black when I race because my juiciness is so photogenic. Maybe it's time for some creativity in this arena. I swear if I had a pink superhero cape or a tutu I would consider it. I want there to be flashes of something pink through the trees that observers might not be sure they really saw. It's not about the costume. It's about creating something intriguing in the dark, cold, muddy woods that will catch the eyes of someone who thinks his/her eyes must be playing tricks. Did you see that? I could have sworn I saw something pink through the trees. Must be seeing things. Mmhmm. Exactly. I want you to think you saw some pink parts beckoning from deep in the forest. Come investigate. Get wet and cold and dirty and leave the trail looking for that pink. Get a little confused and a little scared but be sure you smell something and then there it is again! Something pink--over there, see it? What is that? Go deeper. Find it.
Sirens, mermaids, woodland fairies, ladies in the lake, crones in caves, bearers of scarlet letters and gypsies with mysteries. Sorceress, temptress, goddess. Don't fool yourselves that we aren't werewolves too, ladies. It's all the same appetite in prettier packaging. Last night as I slept I vanquished the bad guy without ever touching him and then went out for pizza. The power of pink needs no bravado.
(c) 2012, ACG
I have always felt that a stack of paper was seductive. I looooooooove words.
I have a hard time with the color "pink". Aside from the pink breast cancer ribbons, which I revere, pink usually makes me cringe. I have these old tapes saying pink is a "sissy" color and I gotta be tougher and cooler than that. You have shown me that oink is not sissy; it is sassy
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