My heart is full of color this morning. I love color: seeing it, touching it, wearing it, and feeling it from the inside of me all the way out to my fingertips. There is a certain reverence to the morning light as it warms the first leaves with its touch, and that same light source creates a palette of vibrant pastels when it sinks into the western sky, stretching its fingers to touch every cloud goodnight, painting for us a spectrum of possibilities from sunup to sundown.

Without color, my life would be dull, indeed. A red living room wall greeting me when I walk into my home is a reflection of my own vibrancy and passion for living. Yellow accent pieces against my muted apple-green kitchen walls supply yearlong springtime. And for sanctuary, peaceful breathing, and rejuvenation I withdraw to the hand-painted vines climbing the blueish/greenish walls of my bedroom.

Mornings allow me to identify with the ROY G. BIV lineup of colors in my closet, starting always with my shoes and building up from my feet. Yesterday it was my cowboy boots and blue tights supplying all the color my basic grey dress didn’t have on its own. While others looked at my striking blue legs paired with my lime green raincoat and pitied my colorful brashness, I smiled and embraced the authenticity of me.

If ever in doubt, I always wear red, but wearing color is a given, as John Ruskin, English art critic, reminds me, “The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love color the most.”