If I were a Colour, what would I be?

One of the chapters in The Artist’s Way is on recovering a sense of strength.  One of the tasks is to pick a colour and describe myself in first person. 

One of my most vivid childhood memories was getting school supplies – more specifically a brand-new box crayons for the upcoming year.  A bright, new, untouched, chisel-tipped rainbow hidden beneath the flap – to this day I can still remember the smell when opening the box.  To get a box of 64 colours with a built in sharpener was better than winning any lottery.  I would read the names with excitement, organizing them from the best colours to the worst, then  sort like with like.  I spent hours sorting, drawing and colouring.  So, with this week’s task of choosing a colour, I immediately thought of a colour, then hemmed and hawed like the 7 year old girl with the big box of crayons.  Atomic Tangerine, Hot Magenta, Ultra Red - so many choices – but returned to my first choice.

I am Black.  Black as the closet. Filled with secrets, fear and monsters.  The unknown hiding in among shadows. 

I am Black.  Black like a ‘go-to’ outfit when feeling insecure.  Basic.  Forgiving.  Dependable. Trying to conceal imperfections.

I am Black.  Black like onyx.  Strong. Sturdy.  Shiny and opaque.  Shielding any vulnerabilities from sight. 

I am Black.  Black as obsidian.  Protective.  Useful.  Aggressive. Powerful. Burgeoning from a churning, challenging past.

I am Black.  Black as ink.  Immeasurable.  Fluid.  Changing.  Determined yet undefined.  A future yet unwritten.

I am Black.  Black as night.  Memories, moments twinkle in the dark.  Waiting to greet the sun and welcome a tomorrow of opportunity.