That daffodil yellow is exactly the color I want to see when I need a lift. It is so close to being happiness that I almost can’t tell the difference. I remember once when I was feeling really down, I walked past a VW Beetle that was that color, and I just stopped and looked at it for a good five minutes, absorbing the vibration and feeling my heart lighten. I walked away feeling worlds better.
In my mind that is the color of April, and it is also the color of the number 8. That’s why I chose April 8th as my wedding day.
Red is usually too aggressive for me. I don’t like to wear it because I always feel that I can’t live up to it—I shrink away from it. But I’ve taken a liking to deep cranberry red and burgundy in recent years. In small doses, peach and rust are lovely accents to other colors.
All the Monet colors, blue and purple and green and lavender and violet and aquamarine, make me feel good.
So—how strong? Very strong, at least for some colors. I love color and want plenty of it in my life. I even go for colored paper clips and binder clips and staples. I’ve used every color of ink pen that’s made. I have entire rainbows of computer paper and ribbons and tissue paper and scratch pads and Sharpies and much more.
There is no place in my life for beige or taupe, very little room for gray, and please keep pink away from me. A nice, rich brown is welcome.
Black and white: it depends, but they’re usually just ho-hum.