The Color (of the Year) Purple

3 01 2018

I am an artist, so things like “Color of the Year” announcements catch my imagination. I know, I know, I just wrote about Benjamin Moore’s Caliente a few weeks ago, but right after that, the venerable color gods at Pantone released their pronouncement:

Pantone’s 2018 Color of the Year is . . . drum roll and trumpet fanfare, please . . . 

Ultra Violet ( )

Anyone else see that Pantone might have declared 2018 is the Year of the Antacid?

If this ain’t Prilosec Purple, I’ll kiss a (guinea) pig.

It is actually a rather brilliant choice, as our stomach linings can all probably use a few doses of something to help get us through “My button’s bigger than your button” tweets, weather predictions that include the term “bomb cyclone,” and the fact that we’re still not sure when  “Elementary” will return to our television line-up, just to name a few early 2018 challenges.

On a less snarky level (which is really hard for me to find, as C-O-L-D as it is in central PA right now), I like Pantone’s choice for this year because it works so well with Greenery ( )their 2017 choice. See how beautifully they pair in these remembrances of past beauty that promise goodness to come. I hope will soothe what ails you.  It works for me.


April Foolishness

5 04 2017

Someone once described Spring Fever as that time of year when the iron in your blood turns to lead in your ass.  Sounds about right to me.

After a few weeks of March meteorological mayhem, today was breathtaking. It was one of those days when the air is the perfect temperature, the sky finds maximum blueness, the sun is properly warm – you know, one of those days when you can just feel the energy of the new season all around you.  Guess that’s what makes me feel so lazy –  it’s all the hard work being done by birds, bulbs, and buds all around me. I’m worn out by proxy!

Okay, maybe I left out a little of the story, like this morning, when I raked 500 gallons of leaves out of my perennial beds so I could see these happy little promises of more beauty to come.  Maybe I understated the effort made to keep the feeders filled all winter long, so the birds might choose my yard to nest. I could have overlooked the careful pruning, cutting back, dividing, and otherwise babying of the plants I love.

Proxy Schmoxy!  I’m just plain worn out!

April, you are exhausting, but you are worth it. When you smile, you are pure beauty. Tomorrow . . . well that’s another story . . . we all know what a crybaby you can be.  Whether you’re sunny or gloomy, I love you, April. You are always filled with promise and that’s enough for me.