to own Color

I remember going to the ring shop with my mom when I was little to get her wedding ring fixed. I remember realizing this was an important mission for her and I remember a quick moment of concern when she took off her wedding ring and handed it to the man at the shop and I thought something was wrong with my parent’s marriage. I remember going back to the ring shop with her to pick it up.

I remember the color emerald green.

She had it on her ring. She wore it in her clothes. She wore it in her big square earrings that went out of style way before she quit wearing them. But I never liked the color emerald green. My favorite color when I was little was white, until I was told that didn’t count. But white was clean and pretty and I thought it was the most beautiful color of all.

I saw something that was an emerald green today and I thought, ooh how pretty! And then I wondered, when did that switch occur?

I live in Color Country. That’s what they sometimes call it. Every color you can imagine can be found in the rocks or dirt or trees or wildflowers around here. When the Virgin River swells and curves, there are parts where you can’t even reach the bottom and you can tell because that part of the river turns a brilliant shade of emerald green. It sparkles like my mom’s ring. It’s beautiful.

We used to travel through Navajo nation on vacation through Arizona and we’d stop at the Navajo road-side stands and mom and I’d buy jewelry. I resented that they used so much turquoise because I didn’t like turquoise so I bought necklaces with juniper beads because they were brown instead. When my granddad died we each received something from his jewelry collection. My granddad loved turquoise. I have one of his turquoise rings from the Navajo and I turned it into a bracelet and it’s my favorite piece of jewelry. I never appreciated turquoise until then. Now it’s one of my favorite colors and there’s no better match than turquoise next to dusty brown skin.

I can’t imagine my life if I hadn’t taken the risks I’ve taken and gone the places I’ve gone. I wonder if my favorite color would still be white. It seems with each new adventure I add another color to my pallet and my world is already overwhelmingly colorful. Sometimes we can argue on whether a car is green or blue and assume the other person is color-blind. But the truth is, we’ve only seen color through our own lens and I don’t think we ever are seeing the same thing. Color is more powerful than just a label. With each passing experience, we own colors. We connect thoughts and memories and scents to them. And we’ll never see eye to eye and I think that’s beautiful.