(no subject)
I've come to realize that I think in color (and texture too). Not dream in color (though I do do that), but think. Like when I read a fic, especially one that really gets me, one that I really love, there will be a color there in my mind. Like its been spread over it like a blanket and I find myself wanting to say things like this is so crisp blue or dark brittle grey or crunchy orange and I realize that it probably doesn't make any sense to anyone else but me. And I can't really describe exactly what the colors and textures mean as far as how I feel about something when I think in those colors. But I feel them. They are there.
And now that I think about it I think of people that way too. Some people are just blue or orange or green. I think this goes a long way toward explaining my tendency to babble babble flail when trying to give feedback. My brain wants to describe things as just color and have that be that. As if that's enough. As if that makes sense to anyone who's not in my head and when I really like something (unless I actually sit back and think about it and don't just react) all I get is color and texture.
*goes back to writing drabble that seems to be centered around the color red*
And now that I think about it I think of people that way too. Some people are just blue or orange or green. I think this goes a long way toward explaining my tendency to babble babble flail when trying to give feedback. My brain wants to describe things as just color and have that be that. As if that's enough. As if that makes sense to anyone who's not in my head and when I really like something (unless I actually sit back and think about it and don't just react) all I get is color and texture.
*goes back to writing drabble that seems to be centered around the color red*