Splintered Blog 11: Any other color notwithstanding

     Some determined assertions are black and white. Others are barely even shades of gray. Robbed of any appreciable pigment they inevitably paint a stark and often dispassionate picture of reality. Taken to extremes, such a polarizing unimbued divergence of perceptions can render almost all outlooks unframable.

     In contrast (a word that suits this particular narrative more than a tad appropriately), certain hues once thought to be complimentary may in fact stand in radical opposition to whatever chroma they happen to inhabit. Not that an either/or proposition in this case alters anything of substance. In some instances relevant features can change their very nature, or at least blend it in such a way as to make pertinent distinctions all but unmanageable. This outcome is anything but fallacious.

     I can’t tell you how many times inelegant painting exercises go astray, regardless of intent. Because I simply don’t know. Although I have a pretty good idea. (Not that it counts for anything.)

     Moving on…

     Validating varied palettes can be frequently taken for granted, since they often offer conflicting perspectives that only please certain audiences, or more commonly, don’t satisfy anyone. In which case you might as well leave your pigment in the damn tube! Never let it be said that bland expressions aren’t arbitrary. On the contrary, by their very existence they offer subject matter that can be downright bifurcating.

     But isn’t that the point? Applying a substantive veneer to otherwise desaturated canvases can add saleable facets while also subjecting one’s ire to unintended consequences and undesired condemnations. So be ready to have each errant flourish analyzed by eyes that may not have their optic nerves connected to anything. Being cerebrally bereft, such ruminations can hardly be taken seriously. And yet they should not be discounted entirely, since a propensity for rejecting the very concept of coloration out of hand can be a sign of intransigence. Even if chromatically hampered comfort zones seem like a safe way of staying neutral.

     Because in truth they aren’t, and never really were.