Color: Often an Adjective, Seldom a Noun.

Many days ago, I thought about how we describe color. Most often, we only think about the color in the sense of the object on which it appears. But what if we thought about color only in the sense of a color? An abstract concept that is only ever utilised in relation to a tangible object. For example: yellow. A pure yellow, roughly the color of the sun (perfect example of the above statements), but described in a way that speaks only of the color, not the object. When I look at yellow, I see it being very bright, but also with great depth to it. Even if it does not take on a shape, there's an angular quality to the color itself, as though corners exist in a shapeless body. If one were to add just a touch of white to it, the shade would immediately soften, round, and one could almost see the swirling undulations within it. 

The other day I saw a strange color, a shade of blue-green, and I thought of all that I had seen within yellow. I closed my eyes and stared intently at the color, void of all its earthly objectifications. Something strange happened. There was a thin shell all about its surface, not unlike that of the caramelized sugar atop crême brûlée. The color was so weak, I perceived, that it was almost like a colored water filled the thin shell. I looked at it a while longer because something just didn't feel right about that description. It would have sufficed, but what is sufficient is never satisfactory. I then realized that the difference was the 'water' was not quite water. It possessed all the fluid dynamics characteristic of water, but I realized that the substance filling it was denser than water. The laws of science need not be obeyed within human imagination.