Purple Musings – The Writer’s Way
Purple it’s such a majestic colour. It’s the colour of Edward de Bono’s riding boots – one of six styles of shoe that describes the way one takes action in a given situation. Purple is the traditional colour of duty and authority – no wonder it reminds one of the monarchy. I think of this colour as being rich and magnificent, deep and meaningful. I am not sure why I should think of this but … African Violets – my mother grew them a lot in my youth – of course the blooms as I remember were not violet but a deep, deep purple.
It is the colour that depicts my youth. Before I got to the age of reason it was the colour of my bedroom. My dad painted the furniture purple and white – the colours of Donny Osmond’s onstage costumes. I had the most wonderful night dress case; a ‘Cindy’ dressed in a magnificent purple ball gown, my Granny made that. She will always be remembered for being nifty with a needle, my mother was too. My somewhat un-attractive and childish night attire was stuffed up the belly of the ball gown every morning; plumping the purple finery and smoothing out the creases in the crinoline. But how can I be sure that my addiction to purple at that age wasn’t due to Donny; I had thought I was more in love with David Cassidy.
It is an attractive colour for songsters – don’t you think? Purple Rain is a song by Prince. I never really understood the attraction of this one, I think I was out of my Purple phase or should I say Purple Haze at that point! As I grew up, I was more into Deep Purple than the Prince of Pop. It might be that Smoke on the Water had a purple heart in its fire.
In my late teens I was diagnosed with insulin dependant diabetes. I get the most vivid purple bruises when on the odd occasion, the needle is a little blunt and I draw blood. The resulting bruise, whilst painless, is belied by its colour. The most purple is the centre.
The deepest parts of the Scottish lochs, I love, are purple. The deepest loch in the UK is in Morar and this is my favourite place in the whole wide world. I wish my ashes to be scattered there – eventually. By the way, and on this point, when you go to Scotland – you don’t go for the weather, so look up into the clouds – you’ll see the heart of the storm is always purple at the point that’s pulsating.
PS – June is #ENDALTZ – Let’s!
In this exercise from The Writer’s Way, Sara Maitland asks us to write about a colour.
75.5 – 6.7