On Colour

Blue can be a calming colour, its multitude of shades ripple in water or the sky; but we often forget the shades that embody playfulness, anger or the quiet currents beneath the depths.

Light blue wraps us in a comforting embrace. It sounds like the melody of a bird’s chorus, carving invisible patterns through a cloudless sky. Light blue sits quietly under a tree in the summer’s heat.

Turquoise is the silent turmoil that exists in each of us, so similar to the sea from which we associate the ocean blue. Turquoise represents the middle ground, the silence between the rolling waves, catching drops of liquid sunlight on its surface.

Dark blue hums with a quiet power. Dark blue is humble. Dark blue sounds like the whispers of leaves as they tumble through the air on a dark autumn night. But dark blue can also be the beginning of something new, the consoling freedom of starting afresh.

Green is life itself. Plants and trees that unfurl from sweet soil around us. Green is the adventurous, wild, generous colour that surrounds us.

Light green is the serenity of a meadow in summer; the joy people feel when they talk to those closest to them, wrapping its tendrils of fuzzy magenta around their ears. Light green is the childish joy of watching a butterfly land on your nose. It sounds like laughter.

Forest green is a quiet voice of comfort in your ear. It is the smell of moss on autumn logs. Forest green embodies peace of mind, the feeling of contentment, of sitting under a tree in the cool shade on a hot day.

Dark green is a rich colour, vibrant with deep emotions that sing within its abyss. It is glossy, oily and volatile. It is the sly feeling of envy that curls its way like a vine around a tree. Dark green is red-wine bottles; mature, aged, clever, manipulative.

Red is a passion; its delicate, strong hands lighting fires. Red is neither love nor hate, but both balanced precariously on a set of scales. Red sounds like the snapping of twigs in a campfire, harsh, honest words slipping from concealed tongues.

A contrast to the roar of red is the quiet melody of black. Black is the sound of silence, the sound of unspoken words, of promises both kept and broken. We personify black as the shadows that slither into our dreams. But without darkness there cannot be light. Black is the colour of modesty; the strong who allow others to shine brightly against the darkness. Black sits content under a dark sky and smiles when the moon bathes us in pale light.

White. The symbol of innocence, of purity, the bleating of new-born lambs. But it also conceals. White is secretive and weary; it hides its intentions beneath its surface. Nothing is wholly pure, the dove with its snowy feather has killed to eat.

Yellow is the colour of warmth and joy; the bubbly taste of honey and sugar on the tip of the tongue. Yellow is late sunshine, the evening air dancing upon our skin.

Perhaps on the surface colours mean very little to us; melodies lost within the loud cacophony of life. But during the quiet moments we start to see. We begin to see the world; that life is not so black and white.

Imogen Rafferty, Year 13