My dad in colour

Sometimes it is really hard to be imaginative and creative because it takes a certain level of emotional energy which with all that has been going on around here lately is in short supply. But there is also a point when you think you have to be to actually help yourself re-create.

My dad (Tash's Grandad) is in hospital with pneumonia. He's been having chemotherapy the last couple of months and picked up a cold bug - quite possibly from us - a few weeks back at my Mum's birthday party.

This morning I was thinking maybe I'd make him something - a scarf or some socks - even though he is loosing all his hair I know he doesn't want a beanie. And I was thinking about a colour - and I realised there is a difference between "what is your favorite colour?" and "what colour/s are you?". When I think of a colour and my dad - I think of him taking a photo of a native tree wearing a rust colour polo shirt with the spring greens and deep brown of mountain beech behind him, I think of him walking in the door in khaki/olivey green trousers and a dark swandri, I think of oil on his hands from fixing engines, the brown of boot leather and a particular yellow of his prescription sunglass lens.

I'm not quite sure what the wool will look like when I dye it but somehow it will remind me of all those colours - and it will be gentle to the touch, but durable and strong just like he has been for us.

So what colours do you think of when you think of the special people in your life?