I appreciate all of my rains despite the pains (unexpected rhymes) that ultimately result in the occasional, spectacular rainbows that I see. In the midst of (perhaps) one of the loneliest days I feel out of the year (I'm trying to change my mentality and association, as I can't keep living in fears of the … Continue reading Intimate Moments / Plus One.
Untitled (Violet, Black, Orange, Yellow On White And Red) Mark Rothko, 1949. If I told you how much I love you, I think you'd believe it. I'm terrible with words, especially when there's urgency involved. I created a timeline and promised (more like expected, let's be real here) myself that I need to write and publish … Continue reading Intimate Moments / The Rainbow.
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.
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.