The last paragraph of my color meditation on yellow today:
Then, what is yellow when the aura collapses and all those sweet sensations of vitality and inspiration diminish? Anticipation then turns to trepidation. That delightful nervous excitement becomes fear. I’m reminded of urine or an otherwise unpleasant material. Yellow has long been regarded as a color of cowardice, hyperbolic journalism, and even maniacal, egotistical behavior. While I do not boomerang between naive joy and full blown panic I do feel that yellow represents how my mood has ridden the line this past year. I have a deep gratitude for how far I’ve been brought as well as this peripheral tension that looms over my thoughts. Am I gold or am I sulfur? Do I evoke the saccharine and refreshing Mello Yello or a cheap, disappointing and lackluster beer? Perhaps, instead of innocent anticipation for what is to come I am instead a petulant buttercup in my darkest moments. Poisonous to livestock, childish, and expressing ingratitude while flaunting deliciously vivid and glossy petals. Yellow at its best is joy and at its most deceptive, mania. It is one of the four humors, secreted in the liver, and allegedly inducing anger like the fire it represents. Yellow is the reactionary element to all my other chromatic attributes.