Deconstructing Blue

There was no Blue ribbon ceremony, nothing too out of the Blue and no, it didn't feel suffocating like being caught between the Devil and the deep Blue sea; but this past luxuriously extended weekend was chalk full of Blue . . . in shades, in demeanour and skies and sounds. But don't let Blue fool you, she's quite the chameleon. If and when sadness strikes you next, perhaps use the following terms rather than misconstrue the complete authentic identity of miss Blue.

Definitions and options include: dejected, depressed, despondent, disconsolate, dismal, dispirited, down-hearted, downcast, fed-up, gloomy, glum, low, melancholy, moody, unhappy and woebegone. (woebegone is my personal favorite. People will seek a thesaurus just to figure out what was meant after inquiring about your day when you reply simply with hand on heart and heavily sigh "woebegone").

Miss Blue, limitless in interpretation, can be vulgar too . . . she's often bawdy, dirty, indecent, lewd, naughty, obscene, off-color (hmm?), risque,' salty, shady, smutty, suggestive and wicked. Oooooh Blue!

And since our lady Blue is a chameleon, one who, by definition changes colors according to environmental necessity, she may be azure, cerulean, cobalt, indigo, navy, royal, sapphire, teal, turquoise, or ultramarine.

We've covered color and hue, discussed mood, but what about notes? Those flat notes that punctuate minds over sheet music at the third and seventh degrees of said scale? How about considering those big Blue chords that rest in place of an expected major musical interval? Some folks say that listening to The Blues inherently leads to ingesting the sadness and woe of the song. Nevertheless, is The Blues a genre that can really be categorized like her Blue kin? Is The Blues solely the audible product of melancholy, despondent and downtrodden spirits? Or is it instead royal and dirty and suggestive, all the while radiant like the clear blue water she colors?

This weekend had no days characterized by dim, grounded shoe-gazing but was instead colored by cloudless Blue skies reflecting off skyscrapers and skin, by an almost transparently hidden Blue moon and yes, The Blues . . . each regal variation of my own eye's namesake, shining independent of each other's defining terms. I love the Blues, in all her incarnations.