I'm back in my dyepots again. My hands look like I've been up to something grim; I've been dyeing some red this week, which is always one of the worst for stained skin. This is the best I can seem to get them, after some scrubbing. I still look like I belong in one of my zombie movies, I think.
I've been thinking a good deal about my relationship with color, about the impact of color, about how some colors evoke very specific emotions or remind me of people- especially about the tie between colors and people, actually. Kate's clear bright greens and brilliant pinks, Gryphon's rusts, the mossy green of my daughter, the perfection of the phrase "Pamela Red."
It was the "Pamela Red" bit that sent me into dyeing reds this week. Chi used the phrase last week and it kicked me into high gear reflecting on how we use color in our lives; Pamela Red is a very specific shade of deep, gorgeous red that is emblematic of one of her family members in a very clear and immediate way. You see this color, you think of Pamela, and vice versa.
The deeper bits in this dyepot are Pamela Red, or the closest I could get.
There are colors like this throughout our lives- a certain shade of indigo that reminds me of why I love looking at the stars, a sweet grassy green that perfectly echoes one of my secret places as a teenager, the glowing maple brown of old wood floors, the inky blue- black that was always stained into an artist friend's fingers, the orangey- pink of the sunset clouds my sister claimed were hers as a little girl.
The evocative nature of these colors is how I wound up in this work; I love the idea of taking these moments and turning them into something I can touch.
As an aside- and another thing I can blame on Chi, the poor sweet girl- with all this thought on the visual, I purchased a new lens for my Rebel, and I couldn't be more excited about it. It is so very, very lovely. I'm telling myself that it will be excellent for some of our product shots, to cushion the expense, but really this was all about desire. It will take lovely pictures of yarn, I'm sure, but that's not why I bought it. I'm already dreaming of the pictures I'll take on our drive out to Sock Summit this August.