There were outlines. Jagged and fat. We were coloring books. Full of those raw paper pages. And nothing else.
We'd whisper and dream of the colors. We'd read the labels with their savory names. Cornflower blues. Indian reds. And coppers. The names on their own were enough to fill us in.
We'd break the seal and revel in the grunt of the cardboard as it released all its rainbows. Held in such smooth shapes. Each tip a perfect cone. And the magnificent cylinders on which they perched.
I never wanted to use them. I just wanted to leave them new. Drink in the smell of their birth. Feast on their perfection still untouched by careless hands.
And read the labels. Imagine the colors by their words. More vibrant than they could ever be scratched into these faded outlines.
You can draw in a coloring book only once. And then you must move on to another.
Tuesday
3/07/2006 10:46:00 PM
You can't even draw in a coloring book. You can only color the places with different colors where the lines are drawn in for you.
First borders of your life are there for you, in coloring books. You have to make sure that you don't pass the borderline with your colors. That means a successful coloring, one that will be praised and probably hung up. That's how we are all conditioned from early on not to cross boundaries.
good point. that's kinda what i was getting at, but even though there are predrawn lines, still no one can stop us from drawing outside them.
sometimes you just don't want to start with a blank page. you know?
Post a Comment