Colors mean something, and I am not just talking about the way red symbolizes anger or blue calm. I can taste them. Really.
Colors in a room.
Colors on a plate.
Colors in clothing.
I would get nauseous during my first pregnancy when there were two clashing shades of green side by side. I have never heard of anyone else that had this happen before. I had to really be careful with sunglasses I wore. Too much of a tint one way or another could send me running to the bathroom.
My bedroom walls are curry. My master bathroom is pomegranate. Butter in the hallways. Deep eggplant on my bed. Metal squares of patina surrounding my dining room mirror.
The balance of vibrancy and clean angles with minimal distraction. Again, in a room. On a plate. In clothing. This is the yummy challenge.
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