The Wall
There were colors on this wall once, bright vibrant colors. A splash of red, a stroke of yellow, a hue of blue and a border of orange. There were faces, there was sparkle, there was life and there was an audience. The abstract blended in flawlessly, the splashes ran between the cracks, the strokes brushed against the rough. The wall was a time warp, you could come and it could soak all your colors and make you eternal. Before color it was white, it was pure and waited with open arms for life. It was without a personality, it was just a presence of divine. Then it sipped in color, it drank life. Then it became a painting, it built a character. However, as is with all that is perfect the wall, the colors, the life was corrupted. Tar seeped through the bricks, paint swelled and cracked and pus squirting out like a disease. The paint faded away and what remained adapted black. The surface eroded and took with it the last breath of pure. The audience were gone and the eternally vibrant were subdued. The wall succumbed to what it was, the chemicals which made it bright revolted and turned dark. There are still traces of what once was behind the tar but it seems like an abomination, a hate crime against all that is not wrong. The colors are gone and with that history of whatever it was.
misha said,
April 16, 2008 at 12:40 pm
Small problem with this one, absence of color is black. White is all the colors mixed in together. Otherwise good piece, sort of symbolically nostalgic.
wrathchild said,
April 16, 2008 at 3:22 pm
White is supposed to represent a clean slate. Though, you are not entierly wrong about the problem, I was looking at it from another angle.
AR said,
April 17, 2008 at 1:20 am
if you are looking at it as the state of earth, then brilliant description of what this planet has become.
sammy wiseguy said,
April 18, 2008 at 1:14 am
the story of a man’s life.
When they are children, they are pure, and innocent. Waiting to embrace what life has to offer them in the years ahead. Then as they grow, the teenage years and all come in, it adds colors to your personality. Some, vibrant, full of life. Others, sad and depressing and dull. And slowly, when you walk towards being senile, the tar seeps through your soul. Bitterness comes with a grand entrance.
That’s the way I interpret it at least. Now obviously wrathchild would know better since it’s his write.
Owais said,
April 19, 2008 at 7:38 pm
i would rather have a black wall than a white one…see the black envelops in all the colors, being the mysterious one, one has to wade through all the colors to find the ‘pristine’ white but who decides white is pristine and pure and untouched why cant black be all that and if u splash colors of over black it will embrace them but wont let them envelop them