Hello, it's Asheley.
Most of you know, Sarah has been away awhile in Australia and we miss her.
Winter is here, it's grey in Red Hook and everything's washed out, dusky from the clouds overhead. I remember going to bed as a kid, lying awake in the dark, and realizing that light makes color.
I think I know how color works, at least partly. If I'm wrong, please correct me.
The theory of color, according to me, is this: the color you see in an object, is the color reflected back at you, which means that the one color you see, is the one color that object is not. A green marble, for example, is absorbing all of the colors possible except green.
White absorbs nothing; it shoots all of the colors back at you. Black absorbs everything; it's an abyss.
All of this blows my mind. Is there a way to see light bending color? Is that what's happening?
I like all colors, but I'm particular about what feels right together, and in what proportions. It's wonderful how personal this is, and how we can feel emotional about a certain palate. Swatches don't do it for me. Better to pick things that embody a color and a feeling. For example, with black, brown, and blue, I see black stone sanded down, the underside of a leather belt, and velvet blue curtains drawn open in a school auditorium.
Back to the theory - what about color abstracted on a screen, like in film? Does light bend the pixels? My understanding is unraveling a little.
There's a short film called Kitchen by Alice Winocour (2005), about a woman afraid of killing lobsters for dinner. Elina Löwensohn plays the woman. Her dark hair and pale skin are so beautiful onscreen. It makes me want to cut my hair and dye it black.
The plane of colors in the film - white, cream, black, and grey - is perfectly drab and quiet. Especially in contrast to when the lobsters flop and show the orange of their underbellies.