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September 26, 2006

Do red and yellow make orange or hurried hunger?

The other day I was looking around at the walls in my office thinking about how color affects mood-I don’t think I would have given it too much thought, but I was baffled when a coworker asked me why I have littered my desk with every color post-it-note Office Depot offers. It was a subconscious venture, and when she pointed it out, I spent the rest of my break exploring my obsession with multi-colored Post-It-Notes. Verdict: I had not “littered” I had strategically placed blank, multi-colored Post-It-Notes around my office to combat the fact that the teaupeish/purple walls make me feel blahzay. See, my favorite color is green, and wouldn’t you know, most other rooms in the office have at least one green wall! No Worries-Perhaps it’s for the best. Green walls may have given me the illusion that I were a wildcat crouching in tall grass FAR too much incentive to pounce and kill and unsuspecting coworker (I assure you, additional incentive is unnecessary). Kidding, but I do have one coworker that posts quotes like I post Post-Its, and that makes me crouch and growl.

I was once told that marketers found that bright red increases hunger and bright yellow the instinct to rush, which is why McDonald’s chose red and yellow for their franchise. Not sure if it’s true—surly don’t doubt it. But, would such tactics work? I mean, do people respond to colors similarly? Maybe to some degree. I guess there are cultural color connotations to factor in, and shade/hue issues to consider. BUT, do certain colors like bright read REALLY raise blood pressure, as some suggest? Who Knows? Sight may be like our sense of smell; certain smells calm some while nauseating others. Other smells, like road kill, are universally repulsive. I think it’s interesting that American associate black with death whereas, globally, white’s the most predominate color for it. Hummmm? Black is associated with death in America, but I don’t think a sleek, black sushi bar would dissuade any death-fearing American-I mean, IF they like raw fish. Must be context, or the fact that each color here has a gazillion associations attached to it. Maybe, some cultures are more sensitive to color associations or have narrower color associations? My brother, Worku, told me that people avoid wearing purple in Ethiopia cause purple represents sadness. It took him some getting used to see people traipsing around in it. On a more intense level, I was shocked to learn that one of my friends teaching in Korea was addressed by her superior for using a red marker on the classroom’s dry-erase board. She was told that red writing on white background had a negative stigma attached to it.
All this got me thinking if there are any color combinations that bother me? I couldn’t think of any. Actually, I would love to have my cones saturated with as much color as possible. Aaah (the “I take that back” aah NOT the epiphany aah) Sometimes, like when I’m reading, I want to see the world in Sepia, you know, so that the pages of even new books look like archaic manuscripts. And who doesn’t desire a good black and white day when it’s raining so they can wear a long detective trench coat stalking leads on a the latest case?

Note to self: Ugly walls are perhaps necessary to maintain office serenity.
Post-It-Note to self: I don’t like office serenity.

This website is technically for website design, but has a minimalist chart on different cultural associations with color. I thought it was neat.

http://psychology.wichita.edu/optimalweb/international.htm
MAN I NEED TO ADD SOME COLOR TO THIS BLOG...

AND TRY THIS!!!! AMAZING http://www.jacksonpollock.org/

Posted by Heidi V. at 10:54 AM | Comments (8)

September 25, 2006

Blogging to...

Blogging to amuse, to bemuse, and to be a muse. Checking to see if I can post yet on this thing...

Posted by Heidi V. at 03:46 PM | Comments (2)

September 07, 2006

Mother of Pearl

Mother of Pearl

As a child my mother and I were pipers on a rocky moor, draping songs over stone before the tide pulled his cover over the shore.
We sat on beds of moss quietly waiting to see if the process was gentle, if there would be a wake to the sleep.
The tide tucked the shore into an ebbing rest, sculpting sand like a father smoothing a child's brow on his breast.
Wind, wife of Tide, sang a lullaby of waves to Shore: "Be still tonight you'll gather stones, tomorrow breath." I watched mom, as she began learning the gentleness she never knew. The sun, slipping away like a Nanny walking light from the room. In the dim glow, I met my eyes in my mother's. She would stay, absorbing all she'd seen, releasing me to fly down the coast free-a dream.
I Ran.
Quickly.
without a backwards glance. But now, as a woman, I'm drawn to where she memorized the sea. The tide seemed smaller now, The current weaker.
The sand squeaked a cry as I walked its shore.
And I wonder, how many hourglasses filled? How much sand was swept awaiting my return? Sick from longing, I searched for footprints long since drifted. Scanned the horizon for my mother. Before I turned to go, my eyes met a wall of shells piled high faintly shining though their dust.
I dug.
Cutting myself on the broken shards, I knew it was there I would find her. Waiting.
My mother
Buried pearl.

Posted by Heidi V. at 12:19 PM | Comments (4)