A white blaze mantles the blue sky. The sun is a pale shade of cement gray from morning to evening. It is light without texture or color, simply lighting and heating the day. The sun’s insidious rise and fall all but burns the arid insipid landscape, leaving nothing for an on looker’s imagination. No autumn golden light at sunset, no sparkling sunrise over a crisp cold morning. Such trite descriptions melt in the dingy glow of this April sun. From top to bottom it is a palate of drabness, stealing color schemes from a 1970s rug, parquet floor, hospital wall, school cafeteria, trash can, laundry mat, warehouse, grandma’s bathroom, and basement cubicle. Uninspired backgrounds that slow time, staling all energy and creativity that make a day possible.
Perhaps, the women and men wear such bright, textured color to clash against such a lifeless background. A splendor of flowing, sequenced, patterned, bold fabric paint the landscape with Monet’s brilliant strokes. Beautiful botanical gardens and water lilies sway and rise as women banter at the market or wait in line at the hospital. The true show of color comes with the ceremonies. Women and men replace their everyday clothes with cloaks of royalty as they stroll to a naming ceremony or gather for Tobaski. To be trite, they shine and inspire brilliantly like the golden autumn sun igniting the yellow, red and orange maple leaves.