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colors in my dreams

June 9, 2010

I had a migraine yesterday that was slow to fade today, so I slept in. Of the dream I was having before I woke, I mostly remember one fragment that seemed significant, and it was all about the colors.

I was walking through a woodsy park, and came across a display of many kinds of yarn. Most were large skeins of sunrise colors like yellow, orange, coral pink, rosy red. I quite like many of those shades, but I only had eyes for a very small skein, off to the side, that was of quite a different colorway. It was sort of a melange of dark warm browns and deep foresty greens. I picked it up, and immediately found myself mentally transported to another place, a little corner of a forest where the warm browns were rainy tree bark and the deep foresty greens were moss and leaves, and my neighbors might be furry critters or the little people or someone else equally marvelous.

I’ve been thinking about those colors all day. And what the dream might’ve meant. The sunrise colors were beautiful, but also simple, clear, and direct. I do like colors like that, but the colors that really speak to me are the kind that aren’t on the color wheel. They’re somewhere between a secondary and a tertiary color, they’re of darker or lighter values (but usually darker). They’re complex, moody, a bit mysterious. They have a story to tell, but you’ll probably never know all the details. Which means they can always surprise you.

I think the dream was reminding me that while I like the uncomplicated cheeriness of the sunrise colors, for colors that really represent me in any meaningful way, I need to look for something rich and strange and complex.  Something a bit unpredictable. Something that can’t be known all at once.

Also perhaps that uncomplicated colors (people?) are easier to like/love, and will have many more admirers than colors that require more effort. But there is room in the world for every kind of color, and all will have friends/allies/admirers.

I’m lonely a lot, but that doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong, or that I should change to be more like other people. I only really know how to be me, and I do like myself.

So I’m taking a month long sabbatical from reading all the blogs I had been lurking at. I was spending hours a day reading what all these people I don’t know think about all sorts of issues, many of which I don’t even care about. It was like having the TV on all day “for company” — no personal interaction at all, just an illusion. And at the end of the day, no difference — no connections made.

I’m spending a lot more time looking inward, and listening to my own inner voices. It’s been interesting and even intriguing enough that I don’t miss the other blogs. (My hands, shoulder, neck, and back are also quite pleased with the new scheme.)

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