Lately, I’m head-to-toe encased in shades of green. A swaying pine wreath. A sifting matcha powder. A sofa. Green is a stand-in for the color I can’t see. I think Pina Bausch saw it. This is a color that would present itself to ballerinas performing with their eyes closed. I don’t have that kind of stamina; imagination; spotlight. In the meantime, I’m green all over. If I stretch my arm sleeves and pant legs to their absolute extremities, I’m chartreuse, teal—yellow-blue just outside of yellow, blue. When I shut my eyes, my heart is cobalt; my soul is orange; the pit of my stomach, an inky black. These colors look terrible on me. All guts about.
Em, I love it--and also will try to clean up our formatting stuff soon.
ReplyDeleteI too am often drawn to green--but almost always simply to write it. Like I don't own much green. I have often imagined that if I needed to get a formal dress for something (for what? I have no clue! like maybe because I was going to present someone with a crown/an award?) I would try to get a green velvet long number and wear gold shoes.
Olivia – Oh, you would look lovely in a trailing green velvet. If you’re in green the next time we see each other, even if it’s just a button, please present me with candy. Please make a show of it.
ReplyDeletea fashion ethos that is *insertion of the special occasion* into quotidian experience
ReplyDelete