Walking over and around the wet Autumnal streets, great spots of golden light and glowing embers fall out of windows. Grey months scurry on, bloodshot with sunrises and sets the colour of scarlet wine.
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Ingredients and where they come from are at the root of why and how we make our paint.
Walking over and around the wet Autumnal streets
We begin our seasonal shift to inside living – both of place and mind. Late Autumn and early Winter is the most natural season to think of decorating. We are always inside our home; the light is beautiful, and we have a perceived hard stop of one year ending and a new one beginning. We have burrowed down into our kitchens and beds. Our ovens serve us casseroles and sticky, hot puddings. We want our living rooms to cosset us with through our Netflix binges. The thought of eating an icy salad makes us shiver. A crisp blue bedroom, unless seasoned with warmer hues, does the same. As with food, we want our homes to feel rooted, warm and to wrap us up like babies in a blanket of colour.
I think of red as love – love being a wild bouquet of emotions. It is power and sex, and the heat of hearts broken and full. It can be the fires of hell or Christ’s blood. The rousing behind a social movement or an energetic impulse. It is psychologically complex like no other colour. Which makes it very easy to choose as a lipstick (sex/love/power), but very hard to choose for your home (nurture/safety/joy).