To put it simply — binaries bore me.

 

And yet, sometimes I find myself viewing the world in sets of two. Good and bad. Democrat and Republican. Us and them. Right and wrong.

 

At my best, I find this way of seeing to be reductive. The human experience is filled with nuance. Exceptions. Unknowns. Hubble says our universe is eternally expanding— full of transformation and constant discovery. To box anything into one of two fixed categories would be inaccurate. A gross misjudgment. Just plain untrue.

 

Sometimes I choose to see the world in sets of three. Mind, body and soul. Past, present, and future. I trade “There’s two sides to every story!” for “The truth lies somewhere in the middle!” Often, though, it still doesn’t seem to add up to the capital T Truth. Maybe I prefer no boxes at all. Dotted lines if anything.

 

One day when I was 25, while doodling with Crayola markers on my Aunt Sara’s porch, I began to discover an entirely new way of seeing that I still find useful to this day. It’s not a set of two nor three, but instead a set of four — red, yellow, blue, and green.

 

Traditional color theory says that there are three “primary” colors: red, yellow, and blue. Yet for some reason, when I made art using these colors alone, my drawings always seemed to be missing something — usually lacking a sense of balance or completeness. Until I added green. Something about integrating this fourth color made my compositions fuller. More dynamic. More true.

 

Over time I became obsessed with not just these four colors, but with what they represent. Fire, air, water, and earth. I started to look for them in everything. In my photographs. On my walks. Even within myself.

 

The obsession compounded when I began to use red, yellow, blue, and green as tools for taking inventory of my inner experience. My emotional world. It wasn’t long before I realized that the “primary” colors love to steal the spotlight. Oh, ecstatic yellow! Angry red! Melancholy blue!

 

If I were to tell Connor about a hard day I was having, I’d say, “I’m feeling excited and inspired to change a big part of my life (yellow) — but I’m also extremely frustrated with where I’m at now (red) and grieving that things aren’t drastically different (blue).”

 

If I let them, these three feelings will consume me entirely and make me believe they’re the only three emotions I’m experiencing. The only three emotions there are.

 

But I’ve found that, just like with my drawings, an emotional snapshot consisting of only primary colors is not entirely accurate. It is not yet complete without the color green. The Earth element. Groundedness. Presence. Green serves as my reminder to re-center. To more fully appreciate what is. My body. My loved ones. My path. It fills me up and provides me with the courage to continue, one step at a time. Just as I’m intended.

 

And suddenly my world is brought back into balance. I begin to see my experience for what it is. Fuller. More dynamic. More true.

 

Aren’t binaries boring?

 

____

 

 

A few things I’m thankful for:

- Taking a walk with a loved one :)

- The courage to continue

- Going to the tailor

 

 

Pop culture things I’m thinking about:

- I think Life & Beth is great. It’s not a perfect show. But it’s entertaining and touches on nuanced subjects in a way that I’ve never seen on television.

 

 

A random journal entry:

1.5.24

it’s hard to see really big things from really close up

 

 

A random thought:

I’m proud of the way I’ve been taking care of myself, even when it feels like I could do better.

 

____

 

P.S. — I put some of my posters back on Etsy if anyone is interested.

 

Thanks for reading :) Talk again soon.