Color Story
The nature of grounding in colors
I’m happy to share that the Heirloom Journals are back — find them here. To all the new subscribers here, welcome! Thank you for reading and being here.
I am steeped in color. I watch teas brew for the week, watch the colors seeping into boiling water from the dried plant — electric turmeric, subtle clear green lemon balm, the hot pink of hibiscus — meditating on colors as the days begin. At night, I’m making dinner. I stare down at the cutting board, silver knife, microwave, mentally rejoicing in the bright orange of the sweet potato, the pink purple of onions soaking in vinegar, shifting forms as they are pickled quickly. I organized my table at the market last weekend based on color, look to the colors in the sky to give clues about the day. Color sets a mood. Color gives a feeling. Color tells a story.
One story I notice is the colors of the seasons: how Spring, at least here on the East Coast, unfolds into layers and textures of green. My walks in the morning are enveloped in it, green like grass, green like evergreen, the oak crowns thick with leaves. The trails near my house have entered into the part of the season where the leaves are expanding, thick and overlapping, crafting shadows in the dense togetherness of their canopies.
Before the green came, the streets were pink: cherry blossoms floated soft against the blue sky and made a kind of snow on the sidewalks, lilacs came up everywhere, like now, how the dusk lavender unfolds on wisteria vines. Pink bleeds into purple. Hibiscus brews in tea. In the thick of the brown and green tree lines, bright red male cardinal zips around, flying limbo under branches, their quick bodies tracing an arc of red. A goldfinch, small and bright yellow, eclipses the cardinal. Color darts. Colors jump. Colors pop and invite or detract and they guide.
I often look to colors to give context, to tell stories, and for practices of grounding. Colors are tools we can turn to when we’re in need of something tangible, noticeable, and present — especially when we’re in an out-of-body state. Give your agile, agitated mind something to anchor into in place of spiraling thoughts (and bonuses abound if you can do this in nature). I know that when I am personally in a wave of anxiety, there’s a significant calm that arises just from looking outside, from turning my gaze to the leaves on the trees, birds flying, or to the widening possibility of a blue sky. Naming and noticing colors in your life and on the writing page can be one place to start when you’re seeking inspiration and anchoring.
I am often bold color avoidant — I like colors that look like they’ve been dragged around in the mud a little bit. But last week, the color bright pink came to me, and stayed. Fuchsia, bright and vibrant, stuck in my mind, followed by a deep, dusk blue. Dew hung on the edge of the pink roses, the growing vines, the other buds on the trees, bright pink and purple, too. I anchored in to the golden oat of my breakfast in the morning. I notice that colors arise seasonally in my life, vibrating with their own associations, stories, their own kind of aliveness — and I’m finding delight in following this curiosity like a trail or a like thread.
Blue, black, green, a desert-laden red are the colors that ground me. Orange, pink, yellow of the sun, teal blue of the wide ocean, dusk-like lavender and bright colors, they yearn me on. What colors in your own life are you drawn to, inspired by, grounded into, or moving to next? Let me know below, or here.
I’m happy to share that the Heirloom Journals, a rare seasonal breed, all made by hand, and are back in stock. The colors for this collection are grounding, soothing, and Earth inspired:
Oat, named for the grounding practice of breakfast in the morning
Midnight, a deep blue inspired by the insights of darkness and evening
Grass, because what’s more grounding than bare feet in soft grass patches?
Barn, for weather-worn shelters seen off in the distance
Fig — is a dark purple thick with sweetness
Slate, a cool blue green gray reminiscent of stones and buildings
Find these and more at www.odettepress.us (use code Grounding for 10% off this week).
In your life and your writing this week, play around with colors. What vibrates with an energy to it? What colors inspire a kind of grounding? Notice which colors are speaking to you this season.
Paid subscribers, I’ve got a video heading your way this week with a book review and more prompts for color based practice, and a seasonal online class on the way for you later this month. Ready to dig in deeper? Become a paid subscriber below.
Sending you care,
— Kelly
events
in person class may 11 making journals with pockets
online class may 16 build your journaling practice
online class may 24 grounded in gratitude: meditation and journaling
in person class may 26 hardcover lined notebooks at manor mill
in person class june 9 suminagashi at brooklyn brainery
in person class june 11 lined hardcover notebooks at brooklyn brainery
in person class june 11 build your journaling practice at brooklyn brainery
in person class june 15 suminagashi at b.willow
visit the full calendar here + check out the class recording library
this week
Watching | Three Colors: Blue (1993)
Reading | too many things and nothing at once, and the articles below!
Inspired by | cooking and clear days and family
for more,
Read Green is Good for You on restorative environments, this study on the benefits of green spaces while walking or running, and these practices on grounding skills. Check out last week’s Field Guides recording, a meditation practice for the landscape of your life. Next week’s essay is on walking — share this newsletter with your adventuring pedestrian friends. Later, I’m sharing a video on some of my favorite books, like Pure Colour by Sheila Heti, and others, for paid subscribers.
