Colour as anti-therapy

The other day I was looking for a particular photo and came across pictures I hadn't seen in a long time.  The folder name was pretty generic, and I don't think I'd opened it in years.

I only really take pictures of people, and there were some lovely ones of young Sarah, Chris, Emily and Phoebe, and some taken while my mother was still healthy and visiting us.  This is one of them that I particularly liked, although I didn't take it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

l to r: sister Kathy, brother Sean, me, brother Pat, Mom

 What surprised me though, was how much I'd forgotten about the house we used to live in, and how differently we live now.  In the photo above, you can see, behind the Canterbury chimes, that the wall was painted purple.  We had so much colour all through that house!  We were all facing a turquoise dining table and its turquoise chairs, while off to the right of us, pale mauve sofas and chairs were sitting next to houseplants and cats and hearts of glass and stone in dozens of sizes.  If I remember rightly, we had gorgeous turquoise tiles on the kitchen floor.  It sounds overwhelming, but it always made me happy to be there.

This is not to say I don't like our apartment.  It is also warm and inviting to me, although the colour scheme is very different, built around cobalt, copper and deep brown.   In the summer, I throw in some white and the place brightens right up, and as we've been here 6 years, it reflects both our former and our present life.  My one regret is that I didn't keep the glass I'd been collecting for years....Dave said it was because it was scratched, but I don't remember that.  I think it was because I didn't want to admit to being a collector.  The colours, mauve and cobalt and pink, still draw my eyes.