Happy Sunday, folks.
When I was a kid I sang in a church choir. I loved the singing, especially being paid 50p to do weddings (I’d do one for 50p now, such is my love of hymns). However, in truth, I was never very good at being religious: I think I love robust data too much. When we were told to close our eyes and pray, I’d be marvelling at the light pouring through the stained glass windows, pondering on who’d done the flowers that day and why purple was the designated colour of Advent. I’d stare at the complex embroidery on the vicar’s stoles and vestments (like these ones I spotted at a car boot sale) and imagine how someone must have spent hours lovingly stitching their devotion into them. Even then it was becoming clear that the thing I had most faith in was colour. I guess in a complex world we find succour wherever we can: colour seems as good a harbour as any. Oh, one more thing: the singing. I’d probably do it for free…just let me know where and when. I’ll catch you later.
Martha, The Colour File x