Orange You Glad You Tried Something New?

I sure am! Today was the second day of the monochromatic color challenge...the theme? You guessed it: ORANGE!!



I must admit, orange is not usually my first color choice. But when I emerged myself in nothing but orange...it started to come alive for me. I feel a renewed appreciation for this sultry, sunny, marmalade, sunset, tangerine dream color!

I think this will be the way I start off each challenge:

Gathering the materials is half the fun. Once all of the color-cordinated supplies are put together, the inspiration begins!


Photographing the process is also very enlightening. It is also a great way to remember how you got from A to B and then to Q and Z. So, in the spirit of ORANGE, here is a poem that popped up in my head today while being drenched in sunshine colors. It is poem I first heard in the 7th or 8th grade and it was the first poem I read that just made me go, "oooh, I get it!" and started off my love affair with words.

Oranges

The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose
Porch light burned yellow
Night and day, in any weather.
A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and led
Her down the street, across
A used car lot and a line
Of newly planted trees,
Until we were breathing
Before a drugstore. We
Entered, the tiny bell
Bringing a saleslady
Down a narrow aisle of goods.
I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted -
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth. I fingered
A nickle in my pocket,
And when she lifted a chocolate
That cost a dime,
I didn't say anything.
I took the nickle from
My pocket, then an orange,
And set them quietly on
The counter. When I looked up,
The lady's eyes met mine,
And held them, knowing
Very well what it was all
About.

Outside,
A few cars hissing past,
Fog hanging like old
Coats between the trees.
I took my girl's hand
In mine for two blocks,
Then released it to let
Her unwrap the chocolate.
I peeled my orange
That was so bright against
The gray of December
That, from some distance,
Someone might have thought
I was making a fire in my hands.

--Gary Soto