Crayola Bright

Fresh paint is difficult to wash off my skin and I have to scrub it. I painted my outdoor window trim – a slightly deeper green than the lemon squeeze tint in the white on my newly painted home. Inside I look at my subdued tinted walls and I frown. When presented in the first grade 65 years ago with a package of Crayola crayons, I found no tints. Red, blue and yellow (primary colors), purple, green and orange (secondary colors), brown (a mix of all those colors) and white (supposedly the absence of all color) were the eight round sticks of wax that fit perfectly in a bright yellow box.
I was awestruck. Faced with a clean sheet of paper which color to begin with was a monumental decision. I chose the yellow to replicate brilliant blossoms of the goldenrod I kept in my playhouse. What a glorious color it was and I used no restraint in pressing the crayon to paper to reproduce the vivid flower. I was encouraged to experiment with each of the colors but invariably gravitated to yellow and red in my childish renderings. It did not occur to me to want anything less.
Now there are only light colors in my life. How could that be? What went awry? I have no idea. Except a vague caution from my father that red was not a color for nice ladies – a new perspective from a Daddy I worshiped. When studying art I learned that bright colors are used sparingly in oils or acrylics. Gradually there were very few minutes in my life for creative art although I hired out to do occasional pieces in pencil and India ink.
Priorities changed and I again have time to consider art and color. I will not paint any wall fire engine red. However daffodil yellow holds great appeal.
Naomi Sherer