Yellow
It would be very easy for me, who has lived all my life in a city surrounded by the sea, to say that my favorite color is blue, with all its shades, from the emerald blue that colors the Caribbean Sea to the indigo blue with which the inland sea is painted. I would argue that blue has always been a horizon, a sky and even the beginning of a poem I learned as a child (Blue of that distant summit over which my thoughts fly). But no, my favorite color is yellow, the one we find in the sun, in the earth, in gold, in sunflowers, in the golden spike.
In Venezuela there is a tradition regarding the birth of a baby: if a newborn is a girl, everything is dressed and decorated in pink; if it is a boy, everything is blue. In my family there is a legend that since it used to be impossible to know the gender of the child before birth, my mother bought everything in yellow because according to her, yellow is unisex.
I would like to tell you an extraordinary story about why yellow is my favorite color and not other colors. An extraordinary story full of mysteries and great revelations, like the day I was born I arrived wrapped in a thin layer of gold, or that yellow gives me superpowers. But no, I like yellow as much as I like salty things or the scent of coconut.
It was that taste that made me decide, when I turned 15, to wear a yellow dress and not a pink one like most quinceañeras at the time. I remember my mother objecting: “Yellow is so unisex, Nancy, so unfeminine”. And I don't think so. Colors are colors and we are the ones who nurture them with symbolism. For me, yellow can represent light, tranquility, fun, energy.
I have a friend who has a problem with yellow foods: he can't tolerate them. He can't eat butter, yellow cheese, eggs, or fruits of that color. I, on the other hand, am currently doing the math: I love beer, mangoes, camburs, butter, oils, corn, pineapple, lemons...
A song that I love, and is one of my favorites by Coldplay, is Yellow. I would like that when people see me, they only see that color. That if they look at the color yellow, they remember me. And that the day I die, they see me as that sun that hides on the horizon, that before saying goodbye dyes the sky with golden colors and leaves a clarity that steals your breath.
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This post is in response to the new initiative that the @silverbloggers community has for all of us. I'll leave the invitation post over here in case you want to participate. Regards
All images are from my personal gallery and the text was translated with Deepl
Thank you for reading and commenting. Until next time, friends