By Patrick Robinson
I’ve been thinking about colors lately. Specifically about my favorite color. When you are a kid, and you are making up your mind about the world, you sometimes ask others what their favorite is as a way to size them up.
In the fourth grade my Mom bought me a beautiful Kelly Green short sleeved, button down shirt. I remember it vividly and I recall thinking, “This is my favorite color” as I gazed at it. I wore it a lot. But in the moment I declared it as my favorite I immediately felt kind of guilty. I still liked blue. Specifically a kind of cobalt blue.
And to be honest I was very partial to a shade of red, a kind of melon color that they had used to do the walls and carpets inside the original Cinerama theater in downtown Seattle.
Why do we have favorite colors? Do they have meanings or effects on us?