I formulated this groundbreaking thought after having received a FaceBook post that I actually read and found intriguing. Now this doesn't happen very often so it was a surprise to me as well (not that I can read but that a post was interesting, just needed to clarify that point). The fact that people can view the same thing and come to a totally different conclusion reminded me of a conversation that I had last week at my "real job."
Tuesday is burrito day, as I'm sure you're all aware. I was sitting with a few of my co workers at lunch, munching and trying not to let the quacamole drip any further than my chin when someone brought up the subject of cars. Since these guys are a bunch of young engineers, this subject comes up quite often when they're not talking about the latest technological advances. I must mention that after having worked for 13 years in an international technology firm I still struggle with my cell phone which tends to "opt me out" of these types of discussions. But my daughter had just shown me her new car the night before so I jumped into the convo with great gusto.
While attempting to point out some of the fine features of this magnificent automoblie, I mentioned the attractive material adorning the seats. Then came the inevitable question, "what color is the material?" Now let me preface this by saying that when asking an artist to describe a color, you are starting a process that will have their head spinning recalling everything that they have learned from art class to the present....at warp speed, I might add. I immediately conjured my virtual pallet from the depths of my brain, quickly scanning the outrageous gaggle of paint tubes now in an old tupperware container in my studio. While I imagined the paint oozing out of their tubes, my process began. So, I thought, I have some burnt umber, a touch of cadmium yellow, some ocre, a spit of beachcomber beige and the blending begins. Ooh, try a dab of titanium white, add some espresso and....where is that real red?
While the boys are downing their mexican munchies, I'm losing them one by one. The convo has now turned to music and one lone survivor patiently waits for my answer. As I attempt to explain the litany of colors and shades that make up the seating, my head bows to the floor. I glance at his shoes and proclaim "there, that's the color!" How fateful, after all of the intense decisions and blending in my head, the exact color, a combination of all of the beautiful, intricate shadings turns out to be right at my feet. As I furiously point downward, my co worker looks down and says "Oh, you mean brown......
There you go, one man's brown is another artists rainbow. We're not in Kansas anymore Dorothy.