Primary Colors

The smallish office was a blaze of color - batik covered walls, bright watercolor prints, oversized cushions in bright stripes on the floor and a thick, geometric pattered carpet on the floor. The woman with black hair and gold rimmed glasses sat comfortably in a corner of a loveseat. She wore ballet shoes, a fringed shawl over her shoulders and a kind look. I had come to her in search of understanding, validation, perhaps even forgiveness - this was to be one of our final sessions as she had pronounced me emotionally intact, strong, ready to be returned to the fray. Suppose, she said in her soft but intent voice, that she had never taken a drink? Would you see her as different?

I hesitated, thinking the question through, wanting to give the right answer and knowing that there was none. In this room of color run riot, there was no place for quiet reflection or serene self contemplation. There were no overflowing bookshelves, no notebooks, no overhead lights to dim or drawn blinds, no filing cabinets, just two women who met on a weekly basis and talked of alcoholism and evil, family and estrangement, forgiveness and the path to healing. She saw the world as a place of blinding brightness encompassing all manner of secrets and she believed that color would force the secrets into the light and take away their power. Color was hard core honesty, a weapon she used against the inner torment of her patients - it seduced the secrets out and drained them - they could not survive in this room of wild, chaotic color, they were overcome and they died a public and painful death. Do you believe, she continued, that she was born evil?

Over the years some of the colors had faded. These she replaced quickly and efficiently, allowing no pastels to gain a foothold. There would be no rainbows in this room, no blurry chalk colors on a blackboard, no soft cashmeres to sink into. This was a garden in full bloom and in full sunshine, waves of bright red and royal blue, the greens of an Irish parade, shocking yellows and deep purple with metallic gold trim. Color could not be ignored or mistaken for something else here, it commanded attention and respect and though it was often hard on the eyes, it never dimmed or let you look away. In this room, color gave you no choice, only challenge.

Yes, I answered, looking directly into her intense blue eyes, She was evil and it wasn't my fault. The woman with the black hair and gold rimmed glasses smiled.