I have sisters who think in color. One had a weaving studio. She spun her own wool. Another batiks. Another is a nature photographer, forever catching light on paper. Another used to argue with me about the color of numbers, back when we were in grade school. We could only agree about the color of 3 which was definitely red, and 2, which was was navy blue.
My sister, Salley Knight, the batik artist, spends days dying silk. When I visit her home, she says, Look at this blue. Have you ever seen such a blue? She shows me around her living room, which is covered with rolls of fabric. There are piles of blues, greens, pinks, yellows . . . It isn’t just the colors . . . It’s the way she shapes the fabric. Some are swirls, some are waves, some are hanging from frames or lampposts or couches. Some are expansive, and some slender and wispy like dreams, afterthoughts or lost causes.