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Colorblind

As an artist I am drenched in paint an average of 7 hours a day. I live in and for color—primarily red, yellow and blue. Secondarily I thrive on orange, green and purple. Compliments are always nice, even if they’re on the opposite side of the isle. Tertiary colors are on an even higher level.


Shall I use cool colors or warm? Which shade, tint or tone? Then there’s hue, saturation and luminance to consider. Opaque or translucent? Monochromatic, analogous, triadic or tetradic? I have to decide if I want to use the RGB, RYB or CYMK color wheel, which alters every color in the spectrum. The number of colors are inconceivable.


I’ve noticed that if someone claims to be colorblind, they are called racist. At the same time if someone has the ability to clearly distinguish between colors, they are called—wait for it—racist.


A true racist is colorblind—one who doesn’t sanction any color beyond their own. Therefore, a non-colorblind person—one who distinctly sees differences is clearly non-racist. Unless, of course they’re of a mind to disapprove of all colors except their own or one who de-legitimizes their own color at the expense of the others.


Some don’t consider white to be a real color. Others claim black is the absence of color and therefore not a color. To answer that, one need look no further than the color samples at a hardware store. Seriously, how many shades of black and white can there be? Racism has a lot of gray area.


From an artist’s point of view there is no color created that isn’t absolutely spectacular. Celebrating every context of color brings unspeakable joy to the soul.