That time, at forty-six, when you had a sudden desire to color. Let’s go to Walmart, you said one morning. I need coloring books. For months, you filled the space between your arms with all the shades you couldn’t pronounce. Magenta, vermillion, marigold, pewter, juniper, cinnamon. Each day, for hours, you slumped over landscapes of farms, pastures, Paris, two horses on a windswept plain, the face of a girl with black hair and skin you left blank, left white. You hung them all over the house, which started to look like an elementary-school classroom. When I asked you, Why coloring, why now?, you put down the sapphire pencil and stared, dreamlike, at a half-finished garden. I just go away in it for a while, you said, but I feel everything, like I’m still here, in this room.
~ Ocean Vuong, excerpt from A Letter to Mother that She Will Never Read
Notes:
- Don’t miss Ocean Vuong’s full essay in the May 13, 2017th edition of The New Yorker here.
- Photo: Thank you Dan @ Your Eyes Blaze Out
Go away for a while, yes!
So so beautiful.
Yes! And rest of his essay is moving.
The rest of his essay is so beautifully written and almost ripped my heart out.
Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
Beautiful thoughts!!
perfect. i still color in my books quite often. zen –
absolutely! being transported by and with the colors, the art making.
Its both calming and restorative. I loved the photo!
She does all that. Agree Debi
I have a bunch of colouring books. Before the “craze”, I searched in an art shop for a colouring book that was not too childish and then found a hard-cover “Thousand and One Nights” art therapy book. I coloured for hours after Mick died and it was so very perfect for totally emptying my mind and just being. I still go towards that when I need to remove myself and just cannot focus on words…
Beautiful post, David.
Wow. Thanks for sharing Dale.
😊
Thanks for the link. Going to read that letter.
Great. It is moving…
What a lovely way to escape!
He is, so good.