Colours Cannot Be Owned!

Free AI web copilot to create summaries, insights and extended knowledge, download it at here

1181

Abstract

day of months of anti-Irish marches and rituals, every year, by hate-filled Unionist protestants. The same Unionists who are holding Northern Ireland to ransom, by refusing to honour their agreement to power share and thus brought governance in Northern Ireland to its knees.Then I copped on to myself, and recited the mantra: You cannot own a colour!I went ahead and added an orange bunch to my bouquet, and I think you would agree, the three colours together are tasty. …I wonder if I am the only person who buys cut flowers, and arranges them in vases placed around her garden?Said mantra had its first outing many years ago at a Lesbian festival, a yearly gathering in Cork, to which lesbians come from all over the world.I have always been an ‘inside out and back-to-front’ kind of person, and seldom buy new clothes. Plain colours, comfort and pockets are my criteria. I pay little attention to fashion, and often wish that I didn’t have to have an ‘appearance’.At the gathering, I was wearing black trousers, a black t-shirt, and my favourite ancient red cardigan. At the pub quiz, I got

Options

chatting to two dykes from the States, and we got on so well, I invited them to come on and share a meal where I was staying. They then had a whispered conversation, turned to me and said: “No. We don’t want to be associated with you, you are a Nazi.”“?????!!!!!” I was speechless.“I most certainly am not a Nazi!” I said, “What the hell??”Turns out, in San Francisco, lesbians not only adhere to rigid colour coding in their dress, they also are so ignorant that they assume the rest of the world does too!In San Francisco, apparently, my black and red attire signalled proudly that I was a Jew-hating sado-masochist!Two friends of mine weighed-in to the heated argument that followed. The two visitors finally backed down, and apologised, when a third friend just laughed at them and stated simply: “You cannot own a colour.”Rather than co-operating with people who try to own a colour, and thereby re-enforcing their power and claim to it, my advice with such notions is one of my favourite Irish expressions, and that is to “Pay them plenty of no notice!”</article></body>

I got the red and the yellow bunch of daisies, but did I buy the orange?

Photo by author

The other day I was doing my weekly shop, and splurged on some beautiful cut flowers — Gerberas. There was one red bunch left, one yellow bunch, and the purple, pink, and white bunches were also selling fast, but the tub of orange bunches was chock full, and going nowhere. I grabbed the red, and yellow, and avoided the orange, at first.

I added a pale purple bunch to my bouquet of red and yellow: just no good, and the words of my art teacher played in my head: “Match the tonalities of colour!” The purple went back to the tub. Mentally, I reluctantly dismissed the pink, and the white as well.

I was aware that I (and evidently everyone else) was avoiding the orange because of a cultural bias, to do with the despicable Orange Men in the North of Ireland. Plus, it was the 12th of July as well, which is the highlighted day of months of anti-Irish marches and rituals, every year, by hate-filled Unionist protestants. The same Unionists who are holding Northern Ireland to ransom, by refusing to honour their agreement to power share and thus brought governance in Northern Ireland to its knees.

Then I copped on to myself, and recited the mantra: You cannot own a colour!

I went ahead and added an orange bunch to my bouquet, and I think you would agree, the three colours together are tasty. …I wonder if I am the only person who buys cut flowers, and arranges them in vases placed around her garden?

Said mantra had its first outing many years ago at a Lesbian festival, a yearly gathering in Cork, to which lesbians come from all over the world.

I have always been an ‘inside out and back-to-front’ kind of person, and seldom buy new clothes. Plain colours, comfort and pockets are my criteria. I pay little attention to fashion, and often wish that I didn’t have to have an ‘appearance’.

At the gathering, I was wearing black trousers, a black t-shirt, and my favourite ancient red cardigan. At the pub quiz, I got chatting to two dykes from the States, and we got on so well, I invited them to come on and share a meal where I was staying. They then had a whispered conversation, turned to me and said: “No. We don’t want to be associated with you, you are a Nazi.”

“?????!!!!!” I was speechless.

“I most certainly am not a Nazi!” I said, “What the hell??”

Turns out, in San Francisco, lesbians not only adhere to rigid colour coding in their dress, they also are so ignorant that they assume the rest of the world does too!

In San Francisco, apparently, my black and red attire signalled proudly that I was a Jew-hating sado-masochist!

Two friends of mine weighed-in to the heated argument that followed. The two visitors finally backed down, and apologised, when a third friend just laughed at them and stated simply: “You cannot own a colour.”

Rather than co-operating with people who try to own a colour, and thereby re-enforcing their power and claim to it, my advice with such notions is one of my favourite Irish expressions, and that is to “Pay them plenty of no notice!”