For me, the opposite of white is always the inescapable color sepia. We take a mini vacation from each other in the warm season. And I have reduced her claim of territory on the landscape of my interiors. But I know that my darling sepia will never abandon me.
We gave away our beautiful studded twin velvet chairs. Banished the tweed or covered it over. Even found a new family home for the deep oaky table that dominated the center of our lives. But she wouldn't keep silent.
Sepia creeps back, veiled in a bridal white, perhaps. Or in elegant tracery the color of fallen leaves. She finds herself drawn home again at the first scent of autumn fires. . . .
And we are secretly glad. . . .
A lovely brown transferware pitcher is the most recent method sepia chose to sneak across the threshold this fall. Who would blame me for never resisting her charms?
“Each of us chooses the tone for telling his or her own story. I would like to choose the durable clarity of a platinum print, but nothing in my destiny possesses the luminosity. I live among diffuse shadings, veiled mysteries, uncertainties; the tone of telling my life is closer to that of a portrait in sepia.”― Isabel Allende, Portrait in Sepia
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