The beautiful colors have long delighted me. Men's shirts, for example, can be exquisite; in my much younger days, when Mary went to J. C. Penney's in Lexington to "shop!" I would go to the men's department for a few minutes to check out the shirts. Invariably I would find at least one that was so lovely I would have to purchase it. Not plain colors, usually, but mixed, patterned, button down collared. I have a number of old shirts hanging in my closet that reflect various passions; they are still beautiful, but for the most part I no longer wear them, nor buy them, for two reasons: not only has the passion diminished, but there is no point to acquiring them since I can no longer button them. Sometimes I stop and admire them, sometimes I wear one and Mary buttons it for me, but the passion for lovely dress and sport shirts has diminished. In my heyday, as they say, when I found a shirt of exceptional beauty, I would buy two of them.
Actually, the passion has not completely gone, for L. L. Bean has a selection of long sleeve T-shirts with pockets (there must be pockets) of exceptional color and beauty. Recently L.L. Bean introduced a new color into that line called "black cherry." Oh my goodness. I bought one just to check it out since I had a ten dollar credit with them, but the color was so delightful I immediately ordered another one at full price. Trying to exercise discipline, I tried to stop buying the Tees when I had 12. But then there was a luscious lavender; I bought two; when I got them, they were so delicious that I went back to order two more, but those colors were already sold out. I was not alone. And I now have about 18, wash them as a laundry load when I've worn 12 to 15.
This morning I passed up the lavender (purple plum, perhaps?) and the black cherry for the Turquoise Sea, which whispered to me as my gaze lingered on the rack, "choose me." I did. I have a doctor's appointment at two. Once I take my shower in a bit, the turquoise sea is on my bed awaiting, and will soon be on my back.
I mention my fascination with color because it is part of my desire for beauty. That is what we (I) want, I think, to acquire the beauty, hold on to it, become one with it. Colorful shirts are there to delight in and remind me of what this life is really all about. And they do, though now my attention has shifted to towels, sort of. Colors are like moods. One day I am sad, a day later happy. Why the shift? I have no idea. Moods change. I thought my love of dark red would be permanent. My bathroom floor rugs are (were) dark red; the bath towels are (were) dark red, a gorgeous shade, the hand towels, the shower curtain, etc., but now the rugs have worn out. I am not fickle. The rugs wore out, and I almost broke my neck because the rubber coating had crumbled. Who knew. That's how the coating crumbles, apparently.
Walmart has colors too. There was a turquoise set of rugs that was absolutely lovely. I needed rugs; I bought them. Thus, my bathroom scheme has changed to blue, or greenish blue, and my bath towels are now "aqua frost" and "aqua frost stripe." The new rugs do not slip, the new color scheme is delightful. The towels are super absorbant, and go up tomorrow.
While my celebration of color this way is a bit silly, yet there is a truth lurking there. Beauty can draw us out of ourselves and toward the Divine Other. We live in a universe wherein beauty is real. Three men (men!) passed me in the parking lot at the hiking trail. I of course had Simon. "That's a beautiful dog, one of them said." I smiled and thanked him. All of us smiled. Simon is beautiful. So is Schuster. All this attention to beautiful things reminds me of Psalms 148-150 where you can see the entire creation singing the praises of God the Father. "Let everything that breathes praise The Lord." Colors breathe and are in that chorus too, shirts and towels, dachshunds, Simon and Schuster.
We are moving toward St. Augustine.