Anomalous Trichromacy

Color blind does not describe the absence of color; it describes seeing color in a different palette. My brain and eyes work together to see a varying depth of color, from bold to muted. With automaticity, I perceive colors of objects and discriminate between the ones that intrigue me with their sharpness and ones that repel me. Some of my favorite colors are chocolate browns and deep purples or the color of blue when it resembles a robin’s egg. I abhor chartreuse and pale peach and cacophonies of color that overlap without matching.

In LA, I joined my fellow students in walks throughout the city. At times, we were moving directly from a bus stop to a building’s entrance, but other times… we wandered in search of something less specific. During those journeys, I became acutely aware of my surroundings. Colors that sang, colors that roared, colors that screamed, and colors that cried. They were on bicycles, shirts, and facades. The colors blew down the street when the cars sped past. Colors lay interspersed between waste that was tossed in garbage cans. Eyes that looked back at me held me entranced with white, yellow, and red perfectly matched with speckles of color within the iris. Hands that grasped mine or gave me change had colors I have never seen in a box of crayons.

The class in LA allowed me to visualize color with my senses –to see color without blindness. I heard color in the accents of voices and smelled color on the roses. I tasted color on my slice of pizza and I touched color when I pulled my shirt over my head. Returning home to Monterey, I have noticed that color permeates my life with flowers, filth, and friendships.