My Favorite Color Is Red

Yes, my favorite color is red. Can't really tell you why; it just is. Once a number of years back, I had a bright red 1970 Torino that I just loved. But red has been my favorite color going way, way back before that. Back to age five, at least.

In my very earliest years, my favorite color was "green and yellow and white." I have no idea what that was about. For over forty years now, my favorite color has been red.

My brother's favorite color is blue. I guess that makes sense.

Knew a fellow once who told me he'd been going with this gal, and he knew their relationship was in trouble when he learned that her favorite color was grey. I dunno, favorite color of grey, that does sound a bit unsettling.

Every once in a while I run across someone who just doesn't get the concept of a favorite color. I just don't get them. Seems to me the idea of a favorite color is a fairly basic notion. Not getting it is tantamount, in my mind, to not having a middle name, or not having a favorite sports team.

There's something exalted, and at the same time strong and comforting to me, about red. Once when I was six years old I had a dream that I got an infected tooth, and I died and went to heaven. Everything in heaven was red, a bright luminous red lit up from within. At the time I had that dream, red was already my favorite color. I cannot read paragraph 919 of Goethe's Theory of Colors without thinking of that dream:

When we see them bring forth green below and red above, it will be hard to resist the thought that the green is connected with the earthly creation of the Elohim, and the red with their heavenly creation.

Oddly enough, my favorite two-color combination is yellow and black. When I see something colored yellow and black, it often sends a tingle up my spine, particularly if it is something at all artistic or aesthetic. But my favorite color is red.