Rich, intense, saturated in numerous, but always resplendent hues - blue is the color of Greece. I have often thought that I want to bottle it or keep it in a special box and carry it around so that in dry, dusty places or at times when life doesn't seem as colorful as it should be, I can release Greek blues and enrich my whole life.
Blue has always been my color of choice. At one point - aka college through age 30 - blue was the only actual color in my wardrobe. Grays, black, white and blue. I bought blue art. I had blue drinking glasses. Blues of all hues interest me.
But the rich, deep blues of Greece that define this country, capture people in their awesomeness. Even Emily, who puts blue on the bottom of her color list (a serious difference between us), has now - of her own volition - reconsidered blue and come to actually want blue in our home. For that, I am in Greece's debt.
This blue should surprise no one - it is so central to Greece, they put it right on their flag - in a hue greatly resembling that of the Aegean itself. It's not dark like French or American blue nor light like the Swedes - it is their sea. If you look at a boat on the Aegean under Greek flag, you can't tell the difference between flag and water.
Each place we go, at numerous coves, Emily sees a new shade, or the same as before but just calling out invitingly, and she says, "I want to be in it!"
And she often is.
With blue all around them, surrounding their islands and peninsulas - paving their lives, you would think Greeks would hunger for splashes of reds and oranges. Instead, they paint their buildings and fences white and accent with blue - making it crisp and clear. Blue is part of them.
Why all this white? I may be very dumb, because it took me almost two months and four islands to figure it out. Whitewash - which was probably the most common paint they had for a very long time - covers over the rough, dark chipped stones of their traditional buildings very nicely. With enough layers, it turns rough, uneven stone walls smooth. White is cooling in the summer sun, refreshing and bright. When surrounded and accented by blue, it's a brilliant color scheme.
As we've traveled, I have regularly found myself taking pictures of the water - and sometimes just the water - to remember and visit Blue when I'm far from Greece, and time has washed away some of the details as time so often does.
Perhaps I will one day walk into Home Depot with a photo of nothing but Greek water and say, "Can you match this to paint, please?"
And of all the sites in Greece, I will always consider the northwestern beaches of Rhodes to be the site of sites. I long to return to in a pilgrimage for their incredible, unique crystal blue backed with a sharp divide of deep, rich Aegean blue. When I finish staring in awe again, I will dive in and let the best of dark and bright wash over me.
Happy Birthday, Jessica!
Sent from my iPad
Blue has always been my color of choice. At one point - aka college through age 30 - blue was the only actual color in my wardrobe. Grays, black, white and blue. I bought blue art. I had blue drinking glasses. Blues of all hues interest me.
But the rich, deep blues of Greece that define this country, capture people in their awesomeness. Even Emily, who puts blue on the bottom of her color list (a serious difference between us), has now - of her own volition - reconsidered blue and come to actually want blue in our home. For that, I am in Greece's debt.
This blue should surprise no one - it is so central to Greece, they put it right on their flag - in a hue greatly resembling that of the Aegean itself. It's not dark like French or American blue nor light like the Swedes - it is their sea. If you look at a boat on the Aegean under Greek flag, you can't tell the difference between flag and water.
Each place we go, at numerous coves, Emily sees a new shade, or the same as before but just calling out invitingly, and she says, "I want to be in it!"
And she often is.
With blue all around them, surrounding their islands and peninsulas - paving their lives, you would think Greeks would hunger for splashes of reds and oranges. Instead, they paint their buildings and fences white and accent with blue - making it crisp and clear. Blue is part of them.
Why all this white? I may be very dumb, because it took me almost two months and four islands to figure it out. Whitewash - which was probably the most common paint they had for a very long time - covers over the rough, dark chipped stones of their traditional buildings very nicely. With enough layers, it turns rough, uneven stone walls smooth. White is cooling in the summer sun, refreshing and bright. When surrounded and accented by blue, it's a brilliant color scheme.
As we've traveled, I have regularly found myself taking pictures of the water - and sometimes just the water - to remember and visit Blue when I'm far from Greece, and time has washed away some of the details as time so often does.
Perhaps I will one day walk into Home Depot with a photo of nothing but Greek water and say, "Can you match this to paint, please?"
And of all the sites in Greece, I will always consider the northwestern beaches of Rhodes to be the site of sites. I long to return to in a pilgrimage for their incredible, unique crystal blue backed with a sharp divide of deep, rich Aegean blue. When I finish staring in awe again, I will dive in and let the best of dark and bright wash over me.
Happy Birthday, Jessica!
Sent from my iPad
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.