Red.
It’s hard to UNsee -
80’s visions of lipstick enhanced
video vixen faces,
now emerging in daring swatches of color
at local boutiques and
on my Instagram feed.
Reminding me of nightclubs
and new wave nights in allover
black and my signature glam goddess
lipstick. So slick.
Opposite on the color wheel,
the gods must have been asleep
when they invented this ghastly green.
So lovely in nature, yet overly offensive from the factory.
Plastic and unsightly,
begging for bad business card design and
poorly executed pleather bags
being sold to unsuspecting naive tourists
in Chinatown.
Canal Street COUNTERFEITS.
But yet, it pulls me in...
How did this happen?
I peruse my stash of perfect writing pens
and plastic pom poms that overtake my art studio
and see this color everywhere.
The plastic shopping cart at the home goods store,
the recognizable cute car of my friend,
the spatula that eases its way into my sparse kitchen set.
This shade demands that I pay attention and open my wallet
to spread the wealth and contribute to consumerism.
And back across the color wheel and
down the rabbit hole of my city memories I go.
Entry level lacquered nails
for poorly paid office jobs in stifling cubicles.
Looking good on Gwen Stefani,
but a bit overdone on me.
I prefer a highlight of saturation for
my aspirational minimalistic existence.
Street style stars beckon attention
adorned in artisinal ruby tie dyed kimonos
as they strike a pose for photographers at Coachella.
As for me, I’ll observe from afar
and take notes
on the shades of influence
that emerge during my daily
foray into the city and
back again into my creative cocoon.
The interplay of brilliant green and
swatches of red
reappear in my art studio and
on my works in progress.
Oh the dreaded color wheel. But oh so handy years later.