I love black. It is a colour all too often associated with death and dying. With the putrid decay of matter. Or with the void and nothingness. But I believe it is serene, as is pure white. It is vast in that it is the colour of space. But at the same time it is small in that it marks edges and curves. Much like how it emphasizes the sides and sinews of a woman's body hugged by a flowing black dress. Black is the colour of the night. Without it there would be no moon and there would be no stars. As without evil and temptation, there would be no good. Black is the color of the shadows. It is cool in the middle of a hot summer's day. A fading shelter from light. Blackness creates mystery. It shies away the truth only for us to uncover. Black is the ground on which everything stands without which there would be no colours. It is the colour against which whiteness and purity is defined. And as black is nothing, against it everything else is defined.


This is me in black