If I were a crayon…
has written something awesome for the newest of linkup collections I have decided to jump in on.
I can do that, can’t i? I can cross-connect linkups and prompts, right? I sure hope so, but even though I know life sometimes has
I often like to rebel and break them.
🙂
Today’s
Just Jot It January, #JusJoJan,
is another one of those words I am mostly unfamiliar with. I am learning a lot this month.
Well, I don’t really feel all that comfortable using “felicity” in a sentence, in my writing, but life is full of the uncomfortable things. It’s how we grow and develop character.
If felicity means happiness or blissful, then I know of a dream that I love to dream, where I can colour like when I was a child. When I lost the ability to see my beloved colours I tried to look at that as a character building experience, otherwise I would be awash in blue sadness and angry as red red fire.
Now I have writing and words to colour my world with brightness and beauty, but at one time it was the array of colours found in a box of crayons that made me happiest.
If I were a crayon I would be as waxy as can be. I would be proud that I can be felt as well as seen, unlike all those coloured pencils, also known as pencil crayons.
If I were a crayon I would be red because red is so powerful. It’s Christmas and Valentine’s Day and love, passion, and anger.
If I were a crayon I would be as bright as bright could be, as to be visible to everyone, no matter what. My bright red would share the blank slate with blue of the sky and of the water. All those yellow/orange/pinky skies would be drawn wide, as far as the eye can see.
If I were a crayon I would be a brown tree trunk with the greenest of green leaves. I would be a black car on a grey highway.
I would be one of those scented crayons, as well as colourful. I would be red cherry, purple grape, and brown chocolate.
Waxy under fingertips. Sweet smelling, or smelling like wax. Bright and colourful. Just don’t try and take a bite out of me, even if you’ve remembered to peel back my paper wrapping. Yuck!!!
If I were a crayon, the magic box would make colouring with a child, more than just possible, for someone who missed my colours so so much. Not all who once coloured with me still can. It’s not fair, in my crayon’s view, that a simple colouring session with a niece or a nephew who loves to draw has to be missed out on. Scribbles are beautiful, done at any age. I would tell those who don’t think so that it is so, not to let anything stop them, that they don’t need to miss out.
If I were a crayon, colours would be seen by everyone. In a world of vibrant orange and peachy peaches, our power as colours is so strong, you could see us from space.
If I were a crayon, yellow suns, pink hearts, rainbows of many colours, there’s no boundary to our magic in the hands of those who truly believe in the force of a crayon to make children and adults alike smile.
I am aware, as a crayon, of the comeback of adult colouring books and I sit in my box, along with my friends, so proud to be crayons, just waiting for the chance to make my mark on a page or two.
Just picture the felicity of holding me in your fingers again. In other words, pure bliss. So very peaceful.
Crayons and character. Crayons have character. Crayons are characters, as one budding writer says so beautifully:
And “Felicity” is brought to you by
who writes.
Ah, here’s to colours and words.
If you were a crayon, what colour crayon would you be and why?
Her Headache 
I love how exquisitely you speak of color here…your feelings toward color are so clear. I can’t begin to imagine losing the ability to see it – something too many of us take for granted. I just want to hug you.
You’re so sweet to link back to Zilla’s post – she absolutely loved your comment. I truly wish you could have seen her little face. It meant so much to her that her words did that for you. Connections. Amazing.
Thank you Lisa. Glad to hear that.
🙂
Yes. How can I be sad though? At least I got to see colours for as long as I did when someone like my brother has never seen them at all. You don’t miss what you never had? Or it’s better having seen for a little while? Is it harder to have had it and then had it taken away?
These questions are ones I can not decide the correct answers for.
Thanks for reading.
I suspect the truth is that there are no “correct” answers, Kerry. Something like that can only be defined by the individual. An interesting topic for thought and discussion, though!
I really like how you jump from color to color, and to a trunk of a tree and brown and then to the leaves, which feels like life. Here’s to colors and all that they represent being seen by all.
That’s an interesting way of looking at it. Thank you.
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