...Living in Color

An acquaintance of mine passed away last week.  He was vivacious and passionate, tenacious, spirited, and willing to stand up for those who had no voice or who had yet to find their voice.  On the day of his passing you could almost feel the hole left in the fabric of the world he inhabited.

So many were trying to voice their pain at the loss, their fears of what the world might lack without his colorful character gracing it.  In trying to describe him, while at the same time trying not to repeat the exact sentiments of others, I wrote how he used every color in the 120 ct. box of Crayolas.  Not all that profound, but as a stay-at-home mom, I'm forced to create metaphors from my environment and Crayolas have been a part of that environment for years now.

After using the metaphor, I felt compelled to extrapolate out to refine what it was that I meant when using it to sum up a man's life. So here goes:

I broke down people into four categories:  8 ct, 24 ct, 64 ct, and 120 ct boxes of Crayolas.

8 count crayons only contain red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, black, and brown.  Not a lot there to choose from, and not enough even to draw a realistic picture of much of anything.  8 ct people are similar in that respect.  They know what they think they know, and that's good enough for them.  Detail and accuracy aren't a priority.  They are happy with the gist of things and with something that's a close enough depiction to run with it, regardless of whether it's an authentic representation.  These are the idealogues of the world who give voice to half truths and call it fact.  This definitely didn't represent the man I knew.

24 count crayons have a wider variety and provide a truer representation of the world, but lack the volume of colors to add creativity into the mix.  24 ct people have a viable place in the world as messengers that can pass along truths accurately.  But without the added skill of creativity, they replicate and not necessarily create and inspire, so this was not the man I knew either.

64 count boxes of crayons have not only the ability to accurately represent reality, but also enough variety to stir creativity in the user.  64 count people also have that balance.  They can see and represent the truth, but also have the ability to inspire.  Their talent with nuanced shades make the picture more vivid for those who may only see in 8 or 24.  Witnessing that can often make the observer want to up their own game, and expand the colors in his or her box.  This description was approaching the man I knew, but didn't quite do him justice.

Lastly there's the 120 count box.  The first time I saw one, I was shocked and if I remember correctly, my reaction was..."are there even 120 colors?"  That reaction alone should tell you that I'm definitely not a 120 person, but I admire them deeply.   120 count people are the people in the world who can not only instantly tell the difference between red-orange and orange-red, but also know the inherent merits of each.  They know exactly when to use them and it enhances the quality to a level of perfection most didn't know was possible prior.  They are extremely creative and have a deep understanding of the way the world works, the way it appears, and the way to represent it so that everyone around them will be inspired to do more and be more.  They use all the resources given to them and also create new resources for those of us in smaller boxes, so we can expand the palettes of our minds.  They make the world more colorful and those of us who know them get to experience the true vividness of our world because of their vision.  They don't come along often, and that is why we feel their loss so deeply.

This fit the man I knew as Andrew Breitbart, and because of his inspiration, I'm beginning this blog.  I'm trying to expand and live in color.  I may not be using every color in the box at first, but someday after I sample them one by one, I hope to be able to find out their merits and use them effectively to carry on what he started.  It seems daunting and unattainable considering the legacy he left behind.  I hope to one day feel he'd be proud, and see that he inspired others to be living in color.