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Prologue
Cami
Colors.
There were so many different colors.
And I loved them all.
Every shade. Every tint.
Even as a little girl, I couldn’t get enough.
I would stare at the leaves, dancing with the sunlight behind them, watching as the shade changed the greens ever so slightly.
I would wake up early just to watch the sky light up at the break of dawn. The vibrant pinks and purples as they pushed out the midnight blue. Then the yellows fading and turning into the light blue that would color the day.
When I would go to the beach, I wouldn’t swim. No, I would stand there, ankle deep in the water, watching as the waves brought in the white crest into shore. I’d watch as the ocean blue would give way to an almost clear, revealing the pale yellow sand underneath.
Colors lit up my world and I lived for it every day.
Guess it was no surprise that I later turned that love of seeing into creating. Putting a brush in my hand and it was now me that was manipulating the colors and mixing them into just the right shade I wanted.
That first stroke was the one that always got me. The bright contrast of color against the stark white canvas.
Then I learned the value of shading. Maybe grays and blacks don’t appeal to some, but to me, it was the balance to all the color. So when my hands worked the pencil or charcoal, I was able to always see more out of a single line. I saw the blending before I even moved my fingers to make it happen.
Dove gray.
Poppy red.
Sage green.
Tangerine orange.
Canary yellow.
Warm. Cool. Dark. Light.
I loved them all.
But I did have a few favorites. Those colors that would always make me smile and feel whole the moment I laid eyes on them. The ones that always seemed to complete the pop of color I was missing in a what I was working on.
Prussian blue. Not to be mistaken with peacock blue, no, I would argue until I was out of breath that they were not the same color. Prussian was brighter. The most beautiful blue I’d ever seen. And peacock, while still lovely, had a bit more green to it.
And orchid purple had stolen my heart as well. There was something about the pink tint that seemed to warm the cool color just a little.
Maybe I thought about things too much.
Maybe it made me a little bit weird.
And maybe one day I’d find someone that wouldn’t just say the grass is green.
