28 January 2026 – Or, maybe: “Colour.” Or, for the old-school among us: Colour [sic].

Meaning, I have found myself playing with the concept of colour these last few days. It is all thanks to a comment by J. Walters on my previous post — her pleasure in the “gorgeous colours” in Vancouver, viewed from her farther-east landscape of “variegated white.”

(By the way, if you don’t already know her Canadian Art Junkie blog, give it a visit.)

So I walk around, and I amuse myself by seeing colour differently. Seeing it in relation to other attributes.

Colour: Brilliant

What’s more brilliant than reflected colour, bouncing off the plate glass of a downtown tower, under a blazing sky?

Colour: Muted

A murmur of colours, quietly living and breathing within the textures of their host, a tree trunk.

Colour: Juxtaposed

I’d not have bothered with either, on its own. Dead leaves. Pretty but unexceptional tiny blossoms. Yawn. The appeal is the contrasts of their juxtaposition. Deep rust vs sunshine yellow; battered vs fresh; last-season vs right-now.

Colour: Unexpected

One of the Monty Python skits had a character intone: “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.” Well, nobody expects a Very Colourful Dog on a tree trunk, either.

Colour: Obsessed

Namely, the colours I discover while indulging my obsessions. Two examples.

1 – My obsession with neighbourhood street-side “fairy trees,” decorated by civic-minded residents, sometimes with a swing for extra delight. Plus, in this specific example, our “Unexpected Dog.”

2 – My obsession with winter moss. In this case, right at the base of my “Colour: Muted” example above.

It’s all colour, if you want it to be. Hurray for colour.