I Am Blue

At one time, blue was one of the most challenging colors to capture for paint and any kind of art. Two of the worlds most expensive materials – lapis lazuli and cobalt – were the primary sources of blue for paint and ceramics. The famous and extraordinarily prized blue porcelain of Jingdazhen during the Song Dynasty – a favorite topic of my dear friend Leanne – were sought after in the courts of Europe, Asia and the Middle East – required a special combination of the local kaolin clay and cobalt placing them out of reach for even much of the upper classes of the day. Even blue dies for fabric were rare and extraordinarily expensive. 

I imagine this was terribly painful for Greek artists who would be hard pressed to accurately capture their world. Ironically, Ancient Greek had no word for blue – perhaps because it was so a part of things that there was no need?

When looking at photos of all the places Emily and I have traveled only two stand out as being dominated by a color: Bali and Greece. Look at the collages on our wall of our trips to Bali or any of the photo albums and a vibrant undeniable green jumps out at you and spans the entire set of photos. Rich, vibrant tropical green is the color of Bali.

Naturally, blue is the color of Greece. You don't have to try to capture the blue – it will photo bomb you. Every collage and photo album with Greece radiates blue in an array of hues one might not know existed without going to Greece. After all, many countries have blue in their flags and I'm sure when developing one, there was little debate as to which ones should be in the Greek flag – but the hue is different than most. Greece chose the blue of the Aegean. I imagine that was a monumental task because the Aegean actually contains many, many shades of blue within it – hiding in different pockets. I think they meant the sort of "main blue" that weaves its way among the islands. But how to choose that shade?

Developments in neuroscience tell us that we may not all see color in the same way. Color blindness aside, while we may all be equipped with the same anatomy of cone receptors and neurotransmitter to process color, an increasing body of evidence shows that at the end of the line when electrical signals meet our brains, there's still some interpretive work to be done and our brains are not uniform in how they do it. Hence the "Dressgate" incident of 2015 when a photo of not that attractive a dress had people arguing furiously over what color it was. To some it appeared gold and white and to others blue and black. This almost ridiculous internet phenomenon sparked actual scientific research to get to the bottom of why people so hand-on-heart honestly saw the same image in such different ways – and in two fairly distinct camps. 

Which begs the question as to which hue of dye could accurately represent the Aegean on a flag? And why was it the blue of the water and not the blue of the sky which is equally resplendent?

Perhaps one thing that drew me to Greece for this time in my life is the blue. Blue has always been my color and the blues of Greece have always evoked an almost visceral awe in me. If the world was created by the divine, then Greek blues are one of the closest proofs of it. In 2010, I was so taken by the blues of Greece that I wrote about it twice! And then again twice more in 2019. There are certain shades in Greek waters I have never seen anywhere else that make me want to just dive into them for the sheer joy of being encompassed by them. How many beautiful things can we be physically immersed in? 

Cultures have all kinds of symbology around color. Red can be fire, love, danger, prosperity, power and toxic M&M's to name a few. Blue is often equated with sadness and depression. Ailyn's Mood Meter that I shared in a previous post assigns blue to the "low energy, low pleasantness" quadrant – which Ailyn thought she would be stuck in for a long time when she found out I would be gone for ten weeks.

While blue certainly can be calming and lower energy, I never find it a good symbol of unpleasantness. Here in Greece, blue is far from low energy. The blue radiates and almost vibrates. Perhaps that's what I find so renewing and life affirming about Greece. It's like the frequency that most resonates with me is amplified and surrounds me. The entire country and culture celebrate blue and don't just leave it to the water and sky, but paint it on their doors and windows, integrate it into their furniture and make it part of their flag. Even their government uniforms are blue – which is common around the world for police, but here the blue is not a dark, stagnant blue – but a richer one. The Greek military wears blue and their camouflage fatigues are, not surprisingly, blue. I suppose if they were being attacked they would need to blend into the sky, water and doorways….?

Emily called yesterday because she wanted to make sure I was okay and not, well… blue. I'm not in the way she means it. When she asked me how I was, the strongest sentiments to come to my mouth were that I am happy to be out of the state of crisis and I feel safe for the first time in almost two years. As I said it, I saw blue – my blue. I'm placid and stable. I have a foundation and find everyday joys. I am me and not a fixer, pleaser, weight carrier, or the adult in the room. I'm just me, free of the adrenaline and cortisol and I'm healing from what I didn't fully recognize was taking so much from me. I still have responsibilities including work, temple, bills, summer camp paperwork, gifts to buy, paperwork for our HELOC, etc. But it's all quite manageable and I have ample resources. I also have a wonderful group of friends and family who communicate with me regularly and am enjoying connections I haven't tended to so well for some time. It feels good to feel supported and to be able to dive into other relationships I love and value.

I am feeling the blue of the Aegean – calm but energized. Even at its stormiest, the Aegean is fairly calm. I love that. It also has playful variations of color – tourmaline, aquamarine, clear, light blue, middle range blue, cobalt, and some hues for which I have no words. All of them are mine. I especially love the beaches and coves with multiple hues where you can see the change in the water around you as you swim between color zones. Magnificent. 

Every morning I awake to the sea outside my window on one side and Hora up the hill on the other. The rich, "main blue" of the Aegean stretches wide before my front yard and I do yoga to it – sometimes seeing a ferry arrive or depart. I use a small island for my drishti – my focal point – when doing balance postures. When I drive into town, work at a taverna, stop into a bakery, park my car – the sparkling blue is right there. Even goats walking through my yard are flanked by blue.

I am not sad or depressed. I am not stressed and fearful. Nor am I elated or joyful. I am not reaching up for the sky, nor burying myself. Instead I am finding calm and strength. I am healing. I am allowing suppressed parts of me out of their bunkers and fox holes. I am living at my pace. I am returning to radiating at my frequency the way the water does – allowing the sun to help shine and waiting patiently during the cloudy times to shine again the next day. I am Blue. 

And when the weather warms enough to enjoy the beaches, I will do as I wrote in September 2010, "I will dive in and let the best of dark and bright wash over me."