Black and white was to be expected. Colors for mixing, shading, defining. Standard colors one would expect to find in any palette. Notably, they were the only two not labeled on the swatch chart pasted into the lid.
Wisdom was silver. Were it actually metal, it would seem darkened as if by age and many fingers running across the surface. She could easily envision the paint as a thin wire encircling glass and perched halfway down her father’s face as he read a recipe in a new cookbook he had found that week.
Elegance, a deep royal purple, was next. Its surface had a soft, expensive-looking sheen to it that evoked a sense of grandeur. A color reminiscent of her mother, ever the socialite, body draped in fine silks, horns decorated in gold, and jewels accenting the ensemble.
Storyteller, a bright gold, followed. It glistened in the light, bringing out the shimmer of green glitter that had been lovingly added to the mixture. She could it imagine it lining bright brown eyes, dusting the cheeks of dark skin. It always gave her a feeling of warmth and love. Often, she hummed a familiar tune from her childhood as she worked with it.
Beauty, a cobalt blue, made itself at home in this side of the collection. Turbulent and cool like the seas surrounding Port Damali in what passed for winter. It was a bittersweet shade of blue, one that reminded her of happier times and of old heartaches. It was too close to the shade of her sister’s favorite dress.
Alizarin crimson sat proudly in the middle of the tin. The small pan was lovingly used, as evidenced by the deep divot in the center that nearly reached the bottom. Its label of Confidence made its meaning clear.
Hearth came next. An orange that seemed to somehow catch the light as if it was a flickering flame itself. She imagined she could smell the slight smokiness that reminded her of her best friend, her brother waiting for her in their gallery.
Steadfast settled directly beside Hearth, as it always should. Its constant companion, an earthy green that seemed to ground the bright flame.
Home rounded out the original collection. She ran a finger over the dry pan, wishing she could feel the warmth of the sands that she missed so dearly. She imagined she could almost feel the individual grains beneath her touch.
However, two new colors had made their way into the tin, bringing the original set of ten to twelve. Two colors that seemed to find their way into her work (and her hair) as often as she could manage.
Stability, pale lavender-pink that brought to mind spring and its many storms, was one of them. Lyn had asked her where the color came from, but she only responded with a small smile and an uncharacteristically quiet “it’s my favorite shade of pink.”
Illusion, its companion, was a shade of green that never quite seemed to stay the same. Sometimes it read as turquoise. Sometimes it read seafoam green. Sometimes she wished she could manage to capture the mischievous glint that the color’s inspiration often had in his eyes.
Alizarin’s eyes ran over the tin as she decided which color to use first. It was always a difficult choice.
You see, an artist always has some meaning to their work. Alizarin puts her whole heart into hers.
