When I was 9, I took a basic computer coding class. We worked on a monochromatic monitor, and the instructor explained how future computers would show us more colors. He meant that monitors themselves would be full resolution, but I naively thought he meant we would see more than what is in our current rainbow.
My wee little Nicole mind went wild. And I envisioned what and who inhabited this unseen world. I concluded that memories lived in these new colors, as did the creatures that controlled our emotions. Little vibrantly colored beings helped balance us, just like the weather. And as I walked through the woods to the school bus every morning, I would say thank you to the trees (because that’s where they lived) and wish them a good day.
As you can probably tell, I was (and still am) a dreamer. This simple childhood memory has inspired a new interactive film project I’m developing. And has me more nostalgic and conscious of my surroundings than I’d like to admit. Which has made me at times so in awe of the world, I feel like I am going to expand and explode. It can feel overwhelming, and heavy and kind of lonely.
There’s so much beauty around us.
So much serendipity.
And oh-so much love.
Yeah, yeah, I know (insert eyeroll)….don’t stop reading this please….it’s true.
The sky alone can paint light and color and mood and meaning in just one rotation. Your day and night can bring about an eyeful of awe. Now imagine the next county, or country, or hemispheres….So many graceful sunrises, and stunning sunsets, so many calms before the storm, variations of color, and formations of clouds and rays of light that reach through their billows. Our sky shapeshifts and provides nods of wonderment to billions of people, in just one day. All we have to do is look up.
Oof. And what about Spring’s newborn greens? Or the intoxicating perfume of night jasmine? Have you ever seen the projected shapes of a solar eclipse through the gaps in tree leaves? Or flora somehow surviving in the driest of places or peeking up and through a crack in the concrete jungle? Can you hear the survival, the murmdurs of love? It’s baffling, and hopeful, meaningful, and never ending.
Have you ever been in a foreign country alone and been comforted by a stranger’s eyes because they remind you of your best friend? Or the dimples of your mother? Have you been witness to the obscene heartache and hopefulness of birth and the relief and honor of being present to the death of someone you didn’t think you could live without? Have you ever been uplifted by a stranger or even more touched by someone you didn’t think could love you any more? We’re all just skin-covered emotions after all…
My project is called ‘Hue’ it’s about a guy who lost his sense, specifically the sense to see color. It’s a metaphor…he’s not depressed per se, but dim to all the wonderment life has to offer. And that’s where we come in… In essence, we are the other main character. The antagonist who becomes the protagonist.
The friend who reminds Hue how to rediscover life in full spectrum.
We are the unseen colors of the rainbow.
We are memories and the controllers of emotion.
We are beauty, and serendipity, and love.