Secret Color

When I was living in Boston in the 80’s, I worked as a textile designer for my company called BETES de COULEUR (Beast of Color).

We sold very expensive hand-painted mens and women’s wear.

We didn’t sell too many actually, so the life of the business was short.

But we did do great stuff.

And got oodles of good press.

We made things like this robe from a vast and filthy loft in a bad part of town.

It was a very alive place, that loft.

My partner loved heavy metal music and I learned to tune it out and hunker down in my area focused on color and pattern and dye and brushes and color…

I have always known how to create my own world.

Initially out of necessity and then as I got older, out of necessity again.

This robe is the last remaining piece from our collections.

It hangs in my closet.

I love how it just looks like a fairly plain blue robe until you open it up.

In my own life these days I watch how I am very judicious about when and with whom I show my own colors.

I used to splash them around all over the place.


Invisibility? NO! … SEE ME!

How funny that these days invisibility is not an option as I wobble around town with my walker and wheelchair.

Not really funny but how weird that life has given me what I wanted.

The thing is that I now choose very consciously where and with whom I show my colors.

They are hard won and precious.

There is nothing about me that even resembles splashy these days.

But I am not without the spontaneity of a water balloon toss..

It’s just that it isn’t an everyday event.

You never can tell when the wind might catch the hem of my robe and turn it such that you think you see color but aren’t at all sure that you saw anything at all.


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