Sherman of Sherman and Peabody predicts these colors for 2009. (Courtesy Apartment Therapy) This brown was used on the accent wall in my hotel in New Orleans — Hotel Le Cirque on Lee Circle. The color in the upper left hand corner is the magic color. I discovered its magic whilst camping in Yosemite. I noticed a delicate weed, the fairy flower, in this hue, but of a lighter shade. By magic, I mean it partially transcends spiritual dimensions. There are many different interpretations and associations with this color, certainly a lot more than squash soup. It is a very clean and vibrant color. The interior of The Royal Tenenbaums mansion is this color. As Angelica Houston walks down a hall in her blue dress the reflection off her magic-colored walls changes it to purple. The French poet Arthur Rimbaud (pronounced Rim-bow) wrote a poem about the color of vowels.
Black A, white E, red I, green U, blue O- vowels, Some day I will open your silent pregnancies: A, black belt, hairy with bursting flies, Bumbling and buzzing over stinking cruelties, pits of night;
E, Candor of sand and pavilions, High glacial spears, white kings, & trembling cow parsley;
I, bloody spittle, laughter dribbling from a face in wild denial or in anger, vermilions;
U… divine movement of viridian seas, Peace of pastures animal-strewn, peace of calm lines Drawn on foreheads worn with heavy alchemies;
O… supreme trumpet, harsh with strange stridencies, Silences traced in angels and astral designs:
0 ... Omega ... the violet light of his eyes!¹
It is said that Rimbaud had synesthesia, or it could be he was a poet. Or it could be the absinthe. Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder. Careful: it was Verlaine's downfall. It is said Nabakov had synesthesia and Glenn Gould aussi. Angie Haggstrom writes of Gould on Helium.com: He found himself sensitive to the cold and constantly wore a warm tweed jacket and gloves, even in the hot weather of Sarasota, Florida. Once, Florida police arrested him for vagrancy. Rimbaud dressed in a top hat and tails as flies buzzed about his pomaded hair. He was arrested all the time for vagrancy and once for being a revolutionary. Whatever he went through it was grist for his poetry—and the colors of his mind—I mean windmills—I mean—
