The Grey of It All

Today a friend asked me why I like black and white so much. To my surprise I did not have a ready answer. I can't remember not loving black and white. My response to this particular combinationhas been so ingrained in me that haven't really thought about it. Except that I have. But the aesthetic came first. In film, photography, fashion, graphic and interior design, dishes—the black and white is what grabs me and holds me every time. (Speaking of aesthetics please excuse these truly dreadful photos. I couldn't really see the blotchy shadows while editing on my phone. And if I spend a bunch of time making beautiful photos I will avoid writing all together.)

I have always loved collage, although I've never liked any of mine. Knowing when to stop is key. It is highly likely that my passion for Legos runs deeper than the monkeys'. I could happily sit all day making collages with black, white and grey flats. And there is more than one shade of grey. What could be better?

I grew up watching old black and white movies on TV. Most people had b&w televisions when I was little. Color TVs were the big new thing. Walter Cronkite was b&w. The Dick Van Dyke Show was b&w. They were my surrogate family. Dear old Rose Marie. She was still in b&w for me when she held the center square for so long.

When I studied film noir in the '80s b&w really came alive for me. High contrast drama. Prior to that I'd begun shooting b&w photos. But they all looked like crap. I could never get enough light. In college I took photography and was able to realize my dream of the Nude Musicians shoot. Oh they were lovely. My friend Lorelei looked so good with her cello. The compositions were so enticing, but the shoot was ultimately a failure because I had no idea how to light flesh. Or anything really.

At one time I lost a friendship because of black and white. He said, "You either support the revolution or you don't. There is nothing in between and if you don't support the revolution you are on their side." I said but both of those choices are yours, you have decided on two options, and there are no others. I asked why he got to frame the debate only on his terms. He could not see the difficulty of only acknowledging one extreme or another. I saw how limiting black and white could be. My friend could not see grey. No grey at all. If I was grey I ceased to exist. Grey is the rational mind, the moderate thinker who weighs each position carefully and knows the best solution takes something from each side. Compromise. Sanity cannot exist without it. Absolutes can be so dangerous, so heavy.

There was a phase of trying to dye all my clothes black. I know how to get a good black now, but back then everything came out grey. I wanted black, but philosophically grey suited me perfectly. It's true I always wear black, but I do not like absolute black. Only a theater tech needs absolute black.

I have what some might consider a very dull wardrobe. Black jeans, black tee shirts. But I adore the simplicity and consistency of it. And no two are alike. I love subtle variations, heathers and textures. I hate brand new black black jeans. They are too black. They need counterpoint of an old scruffy black tee shirt.

I made a huge concession a few years ago. Because being a parent requires spending much more time out in the sun than I was previously accustomed to. I am not insane enough to wear all black on a gorgeous, sunny summer day. So I shocked myself and everyone who knew me by adding white. Specifically white linen. so that's it. White linen in the summer, black cashmere in the winter. Simple, easy, understated.

Black suits me perfectly. And if you know me, you know that my personality is quite loud enough. My clothes don't have to be.