Day 6 #NaJoWriMoPrompt: How colors speak to you

Colors are very much a part of creative expression. For today’s prompt, write each of the following colors (red, blue, green, yellow, purple, pink, black, and white) and explain what each color means to you. Avoid thinking about the stereotypical definition of those colors, and instead think about what the color communicate to you personally. Think about how you use those colors in your personal life. 

Red – love, blood, family. Haha. And off I go, diving headfirst into the stereotypical definitions of the color. Ok. Back on track. What does red convey to me, how to I use it? Well, it’s a color that gets noticed, so I actually have some red clothing that I put on when I want to make an impression. I like red as a color tone, as I sit in my sofa looking out on my  living and dining room, red isn’t a predominant color, but the tone of red is very much present.

Blue – Blue is a color that I really like someplace, and really can’t stand in others. Blue lights for instance, yuk. Bought a blue lamp at IKEA once. Had to return it. Makes that awful blue light, that you can see when you walk past a house at night, when there is a TV on. I really don’t like that, it’s too cold and sterile for me. But besides that, I really like blue. Light sky blue, jeans color, is a favorite. I like wearing that color, it brings out the blue in my eyes, and I feel pretty in it. There is something light about it.

Green – Very important color for me. The color of nature, of life, of growth. Makes me feel grounded. Safety is a feeling that I get when I think green. I love when the garden starts to awaken after the winter sleep, when small green growth starts to rise from the snow or soil. And every spring, I get amazed at the infinite amount of green hues that exist in nature.

Yellow – Yellow is a color that I am not too fond of actually. I basically don’t have any yellow (or orange) clothes, and I don’t feel comfortable wearing it either. I am not a big fan of yellow (or orange, these two colors kind of go together for me) flowers etc, so you won’t find many of those in my garden. But again, sitting here in the sofa at night, my entire home emits a yellow/orange(/red) tone. I don’t feel comfortable with blueish electric light, it has to be yellow. Otherwise I cannot relax, my body tenses up. So even though I don’t favor yellow in stuff, clothes, furniture, accessories etc, my home would be totally horrible to live in without the color yellow providing its warmth.

Purple – Ah. That is a favorite color, and it has been for a long time. I remember a purple cardigan I had in my early teens. I loved that cardigan! Purple draws me in, I can dive into it, somehow. While it is a color I love, it’s also a color that I shy away from a bit. It’s as if I am ashamed of my love for it, and I have no clue why.

Pink – Not my color. I don’t think I have any pink pieces of clothing… oh. Oops. Perhaps I do. I’m actually lying to you right now, as I sit here, in my dusty pink wool sweater. So yeah. I do have one piece of pink clothing. But besides that, there’s not much pink stuff around. Pink flowers though – as well as purple! -, those are plentiful in the garden! Interesting this, that I cannot imagine having (a lot of) pink clothes, while there’s an abundance of pink hues in the flowers in the garden. Why is it like that?

Black – Black isn’t my color, in the sense that it doesn’t bring out the best of me, rather the opposite, it makes me look fairly pale and anemic. Still, black is a convenient color for clothes, and there is a fair amount of black clothes in my wardrobe, making it easy to mix and match. I think convenient is a good word for my relationship with the color black.

White – White. Not my color either, at least not chalk white. But just as with black, it is a convenient color in clothes, at least tops and sweaters. White pants I’ve never really felt very comfortable in though, and I can never seem to keep them clean for more than a few hours anyway. I come from a family of white painted walls though, and that is a tradition that I seem to be sticking to. For me, it’s as if the white walls hold space for the rest of the room, for the furniture, the paintings, and also the people. I feel held, within the arms of the white walls of my home.

I am a bit intrigued that I start to relate to colors from the concept of clothing. But perhaps that’s not so strange…. I mean, the clothes on my back go with me all day, regardless of their color, it stays with me for a long period of time. So maybe it actually makes a lot of sense that I start to relate to colors like that. Do you?

Boys and girls

Boys and girls. Blue versus pink. Cars against dolls. Rowdy or mild-tempered. How we almost expect a teenage boy to have scruffy clothes and stink of sweat, while we would be horrified if it was a teenage girl. Excusing certain behavior with ”boys will be boys”, while expecting girls to help fellow boys in Kindergarten put on gloves, tie their shoes and zip up jackets.

I could go on forever, listing things, habits, colors and much more, that for some reason have been deemed either to be for boys. Or for girls. Men and women too, of course.

I don’t want to do that though.

What I want to do is have you read this article: 10 Words Every Girl Should Learn. And once you’ve done that, you read this article as well: Beating the Toy Aisle Blues (and Pinks).

Read them?

I read them, and went bonkers. Then I stumbled upon this as well:


Oh. I just remembered another example of the absurd world we live in, as well. I read another article (or a Facebook-update?) the other day, about a lady who had stopped moving over whenever she came upon people when walking, to see what would happen. Guess what she found out? Women move over. Men do to. But not all of them. I think she was up to a count of having collided with 26 men (and zero women), when she shared her observation with the world. And you know what? I actually tried it out the other day, when I was talking a walk in the park close to home. I was walking along, came upon a man coming at me, and I suddenly got it into my head to try it out for myself! We would have collided if he hadn’t moved, which he did, in the last instant. I am grateful for him for moving over, but what I found most interesting was how uncomfortable it felt NOT to move over. Extremely uncomfortable.

So. There I go. I am a person who moves over. Which in itself is not a bad trait, not at all. But it’s interesting, the feeling I got when I didn’t. When I was hell bound on standing my ground so to speak. Makes me think about my own behavior, how much of it which is truly Me, and how much is culturally accepted behaviors I’ve learnt the hard way, which might, or might not, serve me, but which I perform automatically, without giving it any thought. Makes me think of the way of the world, and the culture I am a part of co-creating on a daily basis, moment by moment.

Oh well. There’s plenty do to in the world, to make it a better place, a place where I can be me. Regardless of what that means (within moral and legal constraints of course – unless the law is discriminating itself, which unfortunately is the case in many places where for instance homosexuality is outlawed, just to name but one absurd example). Being me. And a place where you can be you. Period.

So. Here’s a challenge (or rather, many!). For me. Definitely. But perhaps also for you? I’m gonna observe my surroundings for a few days, to see if I can spot this: