...but I've decided to stand pat, and see this hideous background through until after Valentine's day. I'm increasingly convinced that a man should finish what he sets out to do, and I have purposed in my heart to keep it red until then in honor of the holiday.
I know that red is the color of love, but that is an artificial construct. In my mind, red is not truly the color of the love that Sarah and I enjoy. I think if I could reassign a new color to love I would probably say that love is as gold as a bright tomorrow, as green as money in the bank, as purple as an easy, comfortable silence, or perhaps even as brown as a rich soil from which four beautiful trees would grow.
Red is the color of anger and injury. It also invokes memories for me of papers returned all marked up by a teacher's pen, and of communist revolutions. For those of you who are spiritually minded, I'm aware of the significance of Christ's blood ( and by extension the color red) as the purest expression of love, but I write without an ounce of concern for theological correctness. My mind can embrace that thought, and I do agree with it of course, but my heart won't follow suit. I reject red on a gut level as the color of love. It just doesn't sit right with me. Red has too much baggage.
(It also doesn't feel right as the BFZ's background. The black background gave the feel of entering a 24-hour diner for some midnight pie. It felt right. This feels wrong. Don't worry, on Tuesday everything will be back to normal. Anyone up for some midnight pie?)
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1 comment:
I want pie!
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