pink fluffy clouds

Pink to make the boys wink

Where does colour take you? What emotions does it invoke? And how do you know whether the colour you see is the colour someone else sees. Given that sight is dependent on the brain interpreting electrical waves coming through the eyes how do we really know what’s going on out there in the colour of our mind?

This week, take a colour, any colour and paint a picture of it for other people so they can see it vividly in their mind’s eye. Paint it with words that allow even those who have never seen your colour to understand what it means.

You can see my effort here:

Pink to make the boys wink, that’s what my mother always said whenever I decided to express my inner girly! Pink, the softest cashmere brushing the back of my hand in the shop I can’t afford to go in. Pink, the sweetest scent of roses that never grow in my garden. Pink, the sound of other people’s children laughing in the park when I’ll never have my own. Pink, gummy bears and love-hearts in my mouth though I know the sugar could kill me. But mostly, it’s the sweetest kiss from my love before we drift off to sleep.

Now it’s your turn. Why not use the comment area below the post on my website to share your idea.


  1. Blue, pale blue…
    It gives me hope when things are rough and all at sea. Cool, yet warm like a summer breeze – the holidays.
    Calming and uplifting, cheerful, yet serene for if blue were a sound it would be of birds singing, bees buzzing- a lovely dream.
    Not waves crashing or rain plumiting to the ground, that would be the darkest blue- a head that is full of sound.
    Pale blue softens a face showing scorn. Hides the years of worry in a sweater worn- now transformed into a kind soul,that is a glow.

  2. Sense of grey

    Grey is the colour as the clock moves on and daylight fades into night. Twilight is the time for moths; dim, grey, half-seen, half-felt. It is the feel of mist on your face, and the crunch and slush of thawing snow under your feet. It is the smell of smoke from a bonfire in the autumn or a chimney on a winter’s day. It is the colour of a grandmother’s hair and the shadows that fall across memory.

  3. Red the color of clay, baked
    to strength and stacked, shelter
    against a Midwest winter.
    The deep brick red of clotted blood,
    sucked into greedy earth
    after a fresh kill. Red,
    the color my ancestors found,
    traveling here from Germany
    to the land of the red
    barn, the red of iron oxide
    stirred into milk and lime to save
    the wood from rot and mold.
    This same red, which I chose
    for my new wall in my new house,
    the red of my history.

    1. What an unusual way to consider red, I suspect most people would have thought about love but this is visceral and real and very atmospheric, I can almost smell the blood Lynn. 🙂

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