Purple, White, and Red Mark Rothko, 1953. I'm a violet. At least, that's what NYU calls all of their current undergraduates, graduates as well as alumni. In a sense, it's quite nice to be referred to that way, as it's similar to being accepted to some sort of exclusive (yet, okay, expensive) club. I'm aware that … Continue reading Intimate Moments / The Color Violet.
No. 61 (Rust and Blue) Mark Rothko, 1953. Take a minute here and reflect on the significant paths, experiences, changes, and people that have more or less shaped who you are today. When I do that, usually during my daydreams, my head drifts and picks out a specific point of time in my life randomly … Continue reading Intimate Moments / The Color Indigo.
Untitled (Blue Divided By Blue) Mark Rothko, 1966. To me, blue is a color that defines extremes perfectly. It is the singular color that paints sorrow immaculately, but on the flip side, also suitably tints and touches on serenity. It's a complicated hue with many meanings. I've always been a fan of traveling by air alone. … Continue reading Intimate Moments / The Color Blue.
Green and Maroon Mark Rothko, 1953. There's just something extremely charming and mesmerizing about gardening for me. I used to disregard it as a boring and geriatric activity without much meaning. There was a section in the garden in my childhood home that contained these fascinating, blooming red and white rose bushes. When my father … Continue reading Intimate Moments / The Color Green.
Untitled (Yellow, Orange, Yellow, Light Orange) Mark Rothko, 1955. My father once told me that our ancestors immigrated to Taiwan before the ultimate demise of the Qing, which was the last imperial dynasty of China. So basically, my ancestors were one of the first ones to move to this little island. It was quite a … Continue reading Intimate Moments / The Color Yellow.