"No one knows how far back in time
the human passion for color
evolved, but... its transmigration
from one culture to another can be
traced from archaeological frag-
ments as old as recorded history."
— Enid Verity
Color Observed, 1980
Miss Helen Keller, who was both
blind and deaf, writes of color:
"I understand how scarlet can dif-
fer from crimson because I know
that the smell of an orange is not
the smell of a grapefruit... With-
out color or its equivalent, life to
me would be dark, barren, a vast
blackness.... Therefore, I habitu-
ally think of things as colored and
resonant. Habit accounts for part.
The soul sense accounts for
another part. The brain with its
five-sensed construction asserts its
right and accounts for the rest.
The unity of the world demands
that color be kept in it whether I
have cognizance of it or not.
Rather than be shut out, I take part
in it by discussing it, happy in the
happiness of those near me who
gaze at the lovely hues of the sun-
set or the rainbow."
— Helen Keller
The World I Live In, 1908
I
N AN AGE LIKE OURS, color is not the luxury it was in past
centuries. We are inundated by manufactured color—sur-
rounded, immersed, swimming in a sea of color. Because of sheer
quantity, color is perhaps in danger of losing some of its magic. I
believe that using color in drawing and painting helps us to
recapture the beauty of color and to experience once again the
almost hypnotic fascination it once had for us.
Human beings have made colored objects from earliest times,
but never in such great quantity as now. In past centuries, colored
objects were most often owned by only a few wealthy or powerful
persons. For ordinary people, color was not available, except as
found in the natural world and as seen in churches and cathe-
drals. Cottages and their furnishings were made of natural mate-
rials—mud, wood, and stone. Homespun cloth usually retained
the neutral colors of the original fibers or, if dyed with vegetable
dyes, was often quick to soften and fade. For most people, a bit of
bright ribbon, a beaded hatband, or a brightly embroidered belt
was a treasure to guard and cherish.
Contrast this with the fluorescent world we live in today.
Everywhere we turn, we encounter human-made color: televi-
sion and movies in color, buildings painted brilliant colors inside
and out, flashing colored lights, highway billboards, magazines
and books in full color, even newspapers with full-page color dis-
plays. Intensely colored fabrics that would have been valued like
jewels and reserved for royalty in times past are now available to
nearly everyone, wealthy or not. Thus, we have largely lost our
former sense of the wondrous specialness of color. Nevertheless,
as humans, we can't seem to get enough color. No amount seems
too much—at least not yet. True, quite a few individuals objected
to the "colorization" of vintage black-and-white films. These
arguments, however, were lost to commerce; most people pre-
ferred the colorized versions.
But what is all this color for? In the natural world of animals,
birds, and plants, color always has a purpose—to attract, repel,
conceal, communicate, warn, or assure survival. For present-day
humans, has color even begun to lose its purpose and meaning?
Now that we have this huge bulk of manufactured color, is its use
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THE NEW DRAWING ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE BRAIN