Inspiration pops up in the oddest places. I just discovered a new-to-me color: International Klein Blue (aka IKB).
Picture velvety, seemingly bottomless depths of pure ultramarine.
It’s rich. Enigmatic. Alluring.
This pigment, chemically innovative from its beginnings, can appear to hover — as if breathing just above a surface.
Think about Genesis: the Spirit brooding over the waters.
And how “inspiration” also defines a life-giving inhale . . .
This earthly hue was first mixed into existence, midcentury, by French artist Yves Klein.
Some say he wanted to “represent the transcendent.”
A life inspiration!
In three words, how would I phrase mine? Turns out, I needed three tries.
Make things beautiful.
Listen, with love.
Repair via prayer.
Yves Klein, at nineteen, went for a walk on the beach and chose the sky as his territory.
At seventy-three, I need a smaller canvas.
When I was seven (the year Yves patented IKB), my parents packed our belongings. We moved to a bigger house, two blocks down the street.
Thanks to my mother’s passion and daring, we were soon entering our new home through a blue “statement” door — vibrant turquoise, to be exact.
Might as well have been neon. Strangers stared; neighbors shielded their eyes and pointed.
SO embarrassing.
How did I miss glimpsing the transcendent beyond when I swung open that blue blue door?
Now I want to say, “Brava, Mom!”
Friends, how will we color everyday life for those we love in ways that will hover — still vaguely present perhaps, even after we’re gone?
What if this year, no matter our age or resources, we pursue fresh inspiration with the best of our lives?
I’ll be wearing blue, of course.
Inspiration — wherever we find it, however it finds us — is pure gift. Anyone game to try wrapping three words around it?
I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear about it . . .
Read more about Yves Klein and see his famous color here:
You might like this, from the archives: Benediction in Blue
Man with Umbrella Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash
P.S. House of 49 Doors: Entries in a Life (yes, it’s the house with the turquoise door) is now typeset. Hurray!
Azure canopy;
Cerulean ripples;
Cobalt immersion;
Velvet Love.
Like some others, I haven’t commented on your wondrous posts lately, but I also always read them. If I see one of your posts, I can’t wait to be touched and inspired by your words and ideas. You always stir my imagination and offer a cloak of encouragement and compassion.
Ahhh… blue. My childhood room? Shades of blue. And just this last month, I’ve exchanged curtains and drapes; exchanging wine shades for glorious blue shades. They make my soul smile.
Carol, how splendid to hear from you—always a gift. Thank you for your attentive, continued support! I’m so glad the posts continue to resonate with you, and I always feel richer for glimpsing the world through your sensibilities and the ways you express them. They land softly as velvet, extended, in love.
I have been savoring your list, relishing the names, then noticing the movement you’ve gifted us with: from the celestial to the waters that nourish and surround us, to the subterranean, where cobalt is mined. (I had no idea how vital this ore is to our lives: not only in pigments but also vitamin B12, cell phones, batteries, and multiple alloys.)
Isn’t it interesting when a color that graced us in our youth recurs, familiar yet fresh? Makes me smile, too, imagining the dance of light with your new window treatments.
A few fun facts about cobalt: https://video.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search?fr=yhs-trp-001&ei=UTF-8&hsimp=yhs-001&hspart=trp&p=where+does+cobalt+come+from&type=Y235_F163_217427_042622#id=1&vid=634a360a5603788b9b798565ae315d82&action=click
Thank you for the video link. I’m amazed! This kind of information gives me moments to be in awe of our Creator!
Carol, I was amazed, too. So glad you enjoyed the video!
Laurie, I may not have been able to comment much lately, but rest assured I am reading and imbibing, drinking in all your beautiful words! I know I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: You are my favorite lyrical author online. (Loved your poetry book, too, and I await breathlessly to be *inspired* by your second)!
“Blue, blue, my world is blue, blue is my world now I’m without you!” Of a sudden, I’m reminded of all the blue songs of my teenage youth! That was one, and then there’s Elvis’s “Blue Suede Shoes,” (before my time!), and “Navy Blue,” where Diane Renay lamented her navy blues because “[her] steady boy said ‘Ship ahoy!’ and joined the na-a-a-a-vy!'” Oh my! Actually, I was a kid, not a teen, when I heard that one (and pretty awful) song. Then there’s “St. Louis Blues,” published in 1914 and named after my hometown, and “Alice Blue Gown,” from the 1919 Broadway musical, Irene. It is my favorite, because my grandmother taught it to me, and I love singing it (it’s in my key). Oh gosh, just remembered the poignant “The Blue Bells of Scotland,” and on it goes.
Blue inspires art, song, poetry, and nature. I’m unsure why it is often associated with sadness, when it is so gorgeous and for me, often connotes breathtaking beauty and exhilarating exquisiteness!
I think back to the blue I breathed in on the ancient isle of Iona, off the far, west coast of Scotland. Talk about BREATHTAKING BLUE!
At the risk of being a blog-commenter pig, I am posting something I wrote upon inhaling Scottish blue skies on Iona. I shall never forget it, because it was, indeed, a transcendent experience, of which I had almost refused to partake! It took every ounce of courage I could muster to leave my home to embark upon this solo journey abroad and to depend fully on the Lord (meaning, sans Michael; I met women I did not know on a spiritual retreat there).
Our first daunting challenge was to hike to the summit, called Dunn I, sometimes deep in mud on slippery rocks in the rain, sans railings. We could have plummeted to our deaths, quite literally. BUT I discovered that if we risk the transcendent, the inspirational blue we see is always worth it. Here is what I journaled:
“Oh … the top! The summit! The peak!
Standing aloft the ‘mountain of God,’ spinning in every direction, arms outflung, I felt embraced by Him, encompassed by Him, hedged in all around, behind and before, fully surrounded by His power, His presence, His perfection—ringed with His rainbow, encircled by His sky and sea melting seamlessly, blue dissolving into blue into blue upon ‘lovely longed-for blue.’ (n. 1)
Gale-force winds nearly blew me away, but I clung to a rock—the Rock—breathing deeply, ‘renewed by every breath, kinned to the keen east wind and cleansing air, as though the blue itself were blowing through me,’ as if nothing, absolutely nothing, separated me from the love of God.
And just there, just beyond the rainbow, just beyond the tissue-paper clouds and thin-skinned sky, heaven shone and shimmered, glinted and glimmered forth God the Father, Christ the Son, and the blessed Holy Spirit. I felt myself transparent, radiant, filled with the very breath and presence and glory of God.”
Poet that you are, you likely recognize the “longed-for” and “renewed” quotes as being penned by British Anglican, blue-inspired, poet/author Malcolm Guite.
As for your mother? Good for her! I loved the turquoise door, a wonderful statement of authenticity and creativity!
My three words?
After writing that, and because you set the example of more than one, here they are:
Breathe in blue!
Live life lyrically!
I am a lyric soprano but, moreover, I long to live a lyrical life. Also after all the blue contemplation, why not breathe in blue, as well, for an extra measure of inspiration!
Keep inspiring us with your insights, inscapes, and scribing, dearest Laurie. Happy New Year!
Love
Lynn
Dear lyric-Lynn, thank you for your faithful encouragement, such a gift!—and always offered when I seem to most need a small transfusion of effervescence. : )
I am already dubbing your transcendent color Iona Blue, a shade my mind reaches after while reading your breathless, almost contagious, post-climb praise. I too “breathe in blue”—can’t help myself! And . . . I get to ascend while enjoying my chair. : )
Thank you for bringing our attention to Malcolm Guite, so gifted and unique, scholarly and artistically prolific.
You reminded me I grew up practicing scales not far from the weary gaze of “The Old Guitarist,” a Picasso print Mom hung over the Hi-fi. http://tinyurl.com/38xmyzx7
He looked so cold and achey, laden with sorrow.
Some of the reading I did suggested work from Picasso’s famous blue period imbued the color with sadness and regret, which then seeped into the cultural mindset. Who knows?
I am heading back into the day with your words ringing within: “Breathe in Blue; Live life lyrically”
Thank you!
Oh Laurie, talk about inspiration; “How will we color everyday life for those we love…”
Your words bring life to my spirit. Just this morning in my journal I wrote; Compassion, the tangible desire to relieve suffering, followed by three words.
WORD
TOUCH
ACTION
Thank you for the wonderful challenge to hover with compassion. And congratulations on your book!
Roberta
Wow! We’ve been sharing a similar wave length today : )
Three powerful, bountiful words . . .
Just thinking onscreen here: — mind if I run with it? (Do chime in!)
Blue being the shortest wave of the visible spectrum, and also possessing higher energy — we’re drawn to it. Like we’re drawn to those whose empathy enfolds us.
And yet certain risks seem hardwired in: too much blue light can be harmful.
Doesn’t compassion these days seems increasingly rare, thus, all the more priceless? And extending it . . . can cost us.
Note to self: start with the Word. Stay open. And stay alert to the Spirit’s “I’ll take it from here.”
You always get me thinking!
You get me thinking too. How can there ever be too much blue light? And is too much compassion harmful? Thank you for your Holy Spirit alert, “I’ll take it from here.” Start with the Word and stay open; such wonderful wisdom, Laurie. Thank you!
Roberta, thank you for responding to my spontaneous wonderings with these great questions! More food for contemplation . . .
You are a gift to me.
Dear Laurie, what a lovely backstory of a very special blue. I am currently in a state of Wonder (also known as California) because of some family needs and the sky around me is a daily inspiration. My three words? “Just look up.”
PS happy to hear about the progress of your book!
I’m thinking you’d look great in IKB!
Cold as it is here, we’ve had sunshine and blue skies — in shifts.
Is it cold where you are? I love the practical, accessible simplicity as well as spiritual encouragement in your three little words: “Just look up.”
I have thought too of your actual threesome, reunited — in my mind as well as in prayer. May grace be as vast or as intimate as each of you needs it to be from hour to hour, and sustain you all!
A thought-provoking challenge you gave us, Laurie! I see you already used the word “effervesces” in one of your comments. The same word in a different form occurred to me also. My three-word definition for inspiration is: effervescent heart-inkling. / With you I pray to color everyday life for those we love in ways that will hover–with positivity, joy, and faith.
O bring on the inner bubbly!
And “inkling”! You remind me that sometimes the smallest brush with lively grace works its lightening way all through us, little by little, like yeast transforming dough.
Thank you!
Seeing you gave permission to kick the can 3 times… this is what comes to mind while musing your word and invitation, a lyric, in 3’s…
Give me vision
To see things
Like you do
It has been my prayer thus far in 2024.
I wish you and yours well.
Creatively.
r
Rick,
A longing like that effervesces, right through my screen. I didn’t realize when I posed the question I’d be vicariously praying . . . what an unexpected gift. Thank you!
Love your words, Laurie! And thrilled for you about the progress on your upcoming book . . . the turquoise door that’s about to swing open.
My inspiration:
Following those fireflies
Lost and Found
Curio Cabinet Wonders
Bethany,
Your threesome is wondrously visual. I “see” each image enlarging . . . beyond the words.
The curio cabinet of wonders in particular reminds me of those eccentric historical treasuries in people’s parlors so long ago. Victorian Era, I think?
There are a couple poems about fireflies in the book. I do miss seeing them. Had to conjure a few for the poems. : )
Thanks for your response here, Laurie. Yes, with the Curio Cabinet, I love the idea of taking my time looking over the details of one little found treasure at a time.
I haven’t seen lightning bugs in about 20 years, when on a trip in Connecticut.
Looking forward to seeing them again in your poetry . . .
Fireflies are one of those earthly delights that never fails to stir to life the kid in me. : )
I can picture you poring over a small treasure, taking in details many people might miss, savoring details. Pondering intricacies.
<3 Thanks for your company there!
Love it. I always look forward to your thoughts and the beautiful way you arrange words together on a page. Thank you for the inspiration.
”Live, love, dance”
”Step into joy”
”Listen, with compassion”
”Pray, dance, sing!”
Just a few bubbling /babbling out!
Vanessa, thank you for your warm response. And for playing along!
I’m so struck by the contagious cadence and actions you’ve laid out here — alongside moments of deep exhale and stillness and listening compassion.
I once read about a woman so continuously filled with joy that sometimes on a long flight she’d move back to the little room in the back of the plane just to dance in place until someone rapped on the door.
Still too much Eeyore in me! But people like her and like you make me want to be freer.
I am imagining red shoes that outshine Dorothy’s on your twinkling feet . . .
Can’t wait to open the door of that book…!
Inspiration: Stillness. Presence. Gratefulness.
Be my guest, dear friend,
even now, by faith . . .
And I wait for your book with so much anticipation!