I always answer “red.” Always. What’s your favorite color? Red. But why? Why is red so significant to me when there are hundreds of other colors to choose from? Some might say that I like red because it’s warm and emotional, or because it represents love, which are muust more profound explanations than mine- I just like it. With thought, I might be able to fabricate some logical justification like, it’s my Mama’s favorite color or that it looks good on me but neither of those really, truly explain why I love red. So maybe my favorite color isn’t red.
My favorite color is blue. Not baby blue or midnight blue, transient blue. The type of blue that crashes white at the shore, but is quickly swept away into a deeper, darker hue of some larger existence. The type of blue that is splashed over the black skeleton of the butterfly wings that landed on my chest for a few short seconds before being swept away by the wind during a bike ride. It is that blue that never eludes but only lasts for a short moment before it flees because nothing is definite.
My favorite color is yellow. Perpetual yellow. The sort of sun-yellow that is always changing, always rising and falling. The sort of yellow that changes with time and is always renewed into a new yellow that tells me there is always a tomorrow to make today worth it.
My favorite color is green. The green of the grass and the trees. Self-reflection green. The best green is the green that is all-around, boundless and uninhibited. The powerful, earthy green that rustles uncontrollably in the wind, forcing me to re-evaluate my significance. Its that persistent green that is constantly reminding me that there is always something bigger, something greater.
My favorite color is gray. Simple, fundamental gray. The rock-gray that is walked on and stumbled over on a daily basis. The kind that you can feel in your shoes, pestering you to kick them off and walk barefoot. It’s that type of gray that urges me to discover and rediscover the simple pleasures and details of life that are too often forgotten.
My favorite color is pink. Amicable pink. The kind of pinks that ride through a frosty bed of soil, intertwining and blossoming into full bloom together. The kind of pink that survives the thunder and lightning together. The kind of pinks that wilt, and later rest beneath a sleeping earth together. My favorite pink is the intimate pink that reminds me there is always a friend to cherish me in times of creativity and growth or in times of discomfort and peril.
So maybe my favorite color isn’t red. And really, it isn’t green or blue. It’s not gray, pink or yellow. So ask me again, what is my favorite color? My favorite color is nature. Profound, but simple nature. This, I believe.
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