My wife Annie mentioned to me the other day that she was listening to a doctor talk about how we as children see the world as more colorful. Part of it is that the eye, as it gets older loses some of its ability to ascertain color. So as kids, we really do see more color. But, the doctor added, “could it be that the world back then was more colorful?”
That of course got me thinking about Ireland. Not the forty shades of green that truly describe the landscape, but the fact that where it lies in the world, as far north as Hudson Bay is in North America creates a need for color.
The extreme north means dreary, wet winters. (I would say forty shades of gray, but that has been taken.) There’s no coincidence that such long stretches of weather can lead to emotional distress. Hence the Irish became great writers, singers, makers of whiskey and other accomplishments. All to battle the dreariness of the weather. (And perhaps to deal with the trauma of once being under the heavy thumb of the British.)
One other way they have traditionally dealt with such weather is by painting their homes vibrant colors. Driving into an Irish town is a feast for the eyes with the blues, pinks, reds, yellows and other colors that contrast completely with the overcast skies. Then they plant flowers of all kinds in window boxes, each a beautiful cascade of colors, drooping over the box as if gravity is pulling them down. When we tour, it’s fun to watch the exclamations from the group when first encountering such color.
Here in Chicago, we choose drab as a matter of convenience. On our little block there are only two homes that have color. Probably it is no coincidence that my house and my artist friend Walter’s are the only two. But the other fact is that we have our homes painted. Most homes nowadays are sheathed in dull vinyl colors. There is absolutely nothing endearing about these colors as they come down to three main ones: dull gray, dull yellow and white. But the convenience of having your home sided and never painted for the rest of your life overrides any sort of desire to accentuate your world with a bit of color. Afterall, it costs quite a bit of money to have a wood sided house painted these days.
And we dress drab in Chicago as well. Black hoodies, black pants, black sweats and other garb, always dark, seem to be what people prefer these days. It makes for some scary driving at night. People will jaywalk across a narrow, dimly lit street, oblivious to the fact they cannot be seen, even with all the streetlights. Such dress is almost as if we wish to be dreary. For a society that screams at us to stand out, so many of us spend a lot of money to blend in.
Chicago is a maritime town. Like Ireland, we experience more gray days than bright sunny ones, due to Lake Michigan. It is what makes people move to sunny Colorado or Florida. And yet, we don’t have the idea that color may be key to our joy, our mental health and just a nice way to celebrate life. No, we go for the dull, the dark, the convenient and we brood about it.
It is true when it comes to automobiles. I can’t believe that Tesla, with that crazy genius of Elon Musk, has black, white and navy blue when it comes to cars. I would think he would want a zillion colors to shake up the world. Nope, it seems he takes his cue from the big automakers: blue, white, red, black. Maybe here and there a sage or brown, but rarely. And of course, we all buy into this.
We exist in a world in which convenience has created a “one-size fits all” mentality when it comes to color. Color is about joy. In the case of the Irish, it is that defiant celebration of joy in spite of adversity, when even nature seems to conspire against you. Even a little splash of color, be it a new coat, a scarf, a painted wooden bench in the garden can lift spirits and, in some way, save humanity.
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