Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy; sunshine in my eyes can make me cry. Sunshine on the water looks so lovely; sunshine almost always makes me high. (1)

This iconic refrain from John Denver (1943-1997) reminds us of the necessity of light and its many incarnations: morning light, noonday sun, afternoon cloudiness or evening twilight. We easily create a plethora of images associated with light and color, and the beauty that something bright and iridescent brings to mind. The opposite by contrast, dark, produces a somewhat mysterious reaction: we are not quite sure how to address the absence of light. When Prometheus gave mankind fire, it literally changed our reality. (2) A blaze, even a small one excited our five senses in ways never before understood. The two most dominant being our sense of touch: we felt warm and safe; and our sense of taste, our cooked food had a savor that was indescribable. In short order, our palate expanded. By the time the Roman Empire had reached its acme the role of the gourmand began to rival that of the intellectual. “Seldom can there be another age when the importance of good eating and drinking occupies the place that it does in Rome. Vast numbers of coarse-grained (3) people devoid of the least ability to criticize fine bronzes or to comprehend Homer or Virgil can go into ecstasies over superior oysters. Gastronomy has become a kind of supreme science and art, and no slaves sell for better prices than truly expert cooks. Repeatedly, huge fortunes have been ruined merely because their possessors wished to surpass all rivals with the extravagant refinements of gluttony.” (4) It almost sounds as if history is repeating itself in garish tourist venues such as Las Vegas and Macau: purveyors of the obesity associated with American Dream be forewarned.

One color that has never been perfectly replicated is Tyrian Purple manufactured in the region around the ancient Phoenician city of Tyre, some 80 kilometers south of Beirut, Lebanon. Originally an island, the modern town juts out into the Mediterranean Sea and is said to be the birthplace of Dido of Carthage, the abandoned companion of Aeneas, the founder of Rome. In antiquity, the metropolis produced an expensive purple dye from several varieties of murex or rock sea snail, which excrete the dye as a protective mechanism. It was of such quality and cost that it was reserved for royalty. In English we have the idiom, “… born in the purple,” to suggest aristocratic roots.  Little is known about the steps to produce the color, and the actual ancient method for mass production has not yet been successfully reconstructed; perhaps it was achieved by double-dipping the cloth, once in an indigo-hued dye produced by one species of snail and once in a purple-red dye produced by another.

I have come to believe that life can actually be broken into three phases hallmarked by vibrant colors. From zero to thirty could be called your yellow or orange period: vibrant, curious and dynamic. From thirty to sixty, your blue period (not blue as in sadness or despair — deep waters): a time of profundity, introspection and growth. Finally, from sixty onwards, the magenta or purple period: maturity, peace and, God willing, wisdom. I will be sixty this year and I have finally come to identify with the brilliant paintings by Monet (1840-1926) of his garden in Giverny, in Brittany, northern France. The wisdom lies in the realization that you truly know nothing. The great art theorist and abstract painter Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944) leaves us with a thought: The deeper the blue becomes, the more strongly it calls man towards the infinite, awakening in him a desire for the pure and, finally, for the supernatural. The brighter it becomes, the more it loses its sound, until it turns into silent stillness and becomes white.

 

A small joke: A young modern artist, after great difficulty, finally secured an exhibition in a medium-sized town. In the antechamber of the gallery, there was an attractive oak table. The art curator had placed a leather-bound book on the table to elicit comments from the attendees. The painter had a habit of checking the notes in the livre to bolster his confidence and self esteem. One day after a particularly nasty downpour, he opened the binder to read the writings. There were two questions that everyone was requested to answer: “Which particular piece did you like and why did you attend this opening?” The questions were answered rather vociferously: “I didn’t like any of the art and I came to the venue to simply get out of the rain!”      

This week, please ponder what color means in your life.  

Every day look for something magical and beautiful.

Quote: Humanity’s skin is comprised of many different colors: blue, black, orange, white, brown, green, etc. Our blood, however, is all the same color: red. Peace and tolerance from all peoples is now more necessary than ever.

Footnotes:

1) John Denver- Sunshine On My Shoulders (with lyrics)

2) Prometheus

3) Unsophisticated

4) A Day In Old Rome: Professor William Stearns Davis, 1925