Although it’s still February, this past weekend gave us a glimpse of Spring. Going out the door without a coat felt reckless and the white skin of my arms was blinding. I looked through the jeweled-tones of the art I created this past fall and winter. The colors that seemed rich and festive in the winter, seem shabby by the light of the Spring(ish) day. It’s time to rethink the color pallet.
The first spring color that comes to mind is a color midway between yellow and orange. It’s that hard-to-name peachy color. Not the sherbert color that older women wear to church, but the kind of peach that boils beneath the surface and will transform by summer into a color so vivid it aches. That’s the color of a ripening peach in the open market in the French Quarter of New Orleans.