Purple Rain, Prince; one of my favourite songs of all time, and linking firmly to the theme of this post.
The colour purple is pretty immortal, I think. Everyone likes purple, but not many people say it's their favourite [with the exception of the kind of girls who mentally reside somewhere between girly and tomboy]. I wouldn't say it's my favourite colour, fo sho. It's got staying power over the others, though. Purple's been a consistent friend for a long time, and I think I'll always have time for it.
[I am aware that I'm talking about a colour as if it was a person, but colours are the base elements of everything we see, and they're the visual manifestations of everything we feel, and so I think they deserve the same respect as art - which is, after all, just colours {or lack thereof, for effect} carved and shaped and sculpted into a manageable form to make something beautiful and thought-provoking.]
Even before I thought to Google the supposed "official" meanings of it, the colour purple has always been very comforting. It reminds me of being wrapped up in a warm house with a bowl of Heinz tomato soup, looking outside to the rain hammering down on the world as if it's pissed off at someone. It doesn't make me happy, exactly; just calm. Yellow brings a smile to my face; blue reminds me of times curled up listening to a crackly radio; red, with all it's passionate connotations, has a typically Katherine effect on me; purple just chills me out. It's like chocolate spread. A jacuzzi. Morgan Freeman's voice.
All this has been inspired by my latest attempt at colouring my hair - though I'm pleased to say, this one's been successful; I have managed to dye my hair! And my scalp. And my neck. And my ears. And my hands. And the bathroom. But my hair is finally purple!
Quote of the Day: This donut has purple in the middle, purple's a fruit. [Homer Simpson]
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