“I remember that day very clearly: I had received a phone call. A friend had been in an accident. Perhaps she would not live. She had very little face, and her spine was broken in two places. She had not yet moved; the doctor described her as “a pebble in water.” I walked around Brooklyn and noticed that the faded peri-winkle of the abandoned Mobil gas station on the corner was suddenly blooming. In the baby-shit yellow showers at my gym, where snow sometimes fluttered in through the cracked gated windows, I noticed that the yellow paint was peeling in spots, and a decent, industrial blue was trying to creep in. At the bottom of the swimming pool, I watched the white winter light spangle the cloudy blue and I knew together they made God. When I walked into my friend’s hospital room, her eyes were a piercing, pale blue and the only part of her body that could move. I was scared. So was she. The blue was beating.”
Quote by Maggie Nelson
Book:Bluets
Work
Bluets
In this thought-provoking essay collection, the author delves into the multifaceted nature of the color blue, examining its significance in art, literature, and personal experiences. The essays offer a unique perspective on the emotional and symbolic meanings associated with blue, weaving together personal reflections with historical and cultural insights. more
Author
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