sixty-one: orange

i love the colour orange. deep burnt orange, bright vibrant orange, the mellow, melancholy orange of the sunset in pocketbrit’s post, the gentle flame of candlelight or firelight, all of it. i enjoy wearing orange, and our house has splashes of orange throughout. it feels safe and comforting and alive, to me.

i like putting sweet orange essential oil in my diffuser, coz it’s lovely and clean and welcoming. also, sweet orange reminds me of my therapist, who always smells faintly of it when she hugs me.

i also think of playing soccer when i was little, one of the only girls on a team full of boys, and how at half-time, someone’s mom would bring out that old-school square tupperware container full of quartered, tangy oranges. we’d all grab handfuls at a time, biting them off the peel, juice running down our chins onto our jerseys, hands sticky, bits left behind in our gap-toothed smiles. the arcs of fine, citrusy spray that shot out as our nails pierced the pebbly skin.

i love the smell and the crunch of golden orange leaves in the fall. how something that is dying can still be so beautiful.

and orange always reminds me of india, where the most shades of orange exist in the world, i think. clothing and scarves and buildings and henna’d hair and hands and feet and the sun in hazy polluted skies and marigolds adorning statues and temples and the flesh of mangoes and musk melon. jalebi and sadhus and spices.

eight: door

i am quite relieved by today’s word prompt, because i was playing catch-up and wrote a fairly long and tangential post and frankly, am pooped.

plus, when i read the word door, this is the exact picture that came to mind (despite this being a doorway and not a door). i had to hunt for it in my basement, and unfortunately, it’s pretty faded and i didn’t get to posting until nighttime here, so it’s not the best quality, but here it is, anyway.

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Agra Fort, Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India, circa 1998

i lived in india in my mid-20s, and became obsessed with all of the lovely doors and doorways i encountered on my travels there. this one, at agra fort (across the river from the taj mahal) went on for aaaaaages, and although you can tell from the top that i didn’t set up the shot all that well (this was a still camera, way back then, not a phone or a digital camera), this was one of the pictures i set up in a triptych-y sort of frame (with two other beloved photos) when i returned to canada, and that i lovingly placed on my apartment walls for many many years after that. it was so neat, imagining who walked through these doorways, and considering what their lives were like. touching the ancient marble and stone walls and feeling the sense of history there, of centuries of people prior. i spent a lot of time sitting and looking at this series of doorways, i remember, and when i returned to the fort with a friend several months later, i sought out this spot for a second time. when i’m less tired, i might try to think of why it felt so important, there.