Teresa K.'s Reviews > This Book Is Gray

It isn’t easy being Gray, but writing a Gray book helps

I went through a gray wardrobe phase. It fell between orchid and butter yellow. It lasted several years, long enough to wear out two pairs of gray zipper-pocket jeans. I still have my gray argyle sweater, a Jones of New York gray wool peacoat, and my warm and fancy furry gray Sorel boots. It wasn’t a sad phase, this gray wardrobe phase, and I didn’t just wear gray in winter. My gray-, white-, and butter-yellow swimsuit lead me on to chickory, a medium blue with gray and periwinkle in it, similar to the sky in Gray’s second draft of his book. Once Gray expressed himself, and found acceptance among Primaries, Secondaries, and Black, and White, he was ready to live and write in color again. Like me. And I was amazed to find that all along, through phases of Wynton Marsalis coral to sunset pink to sherbet orange to Great Lakes aquamarine, to plum to French blue to orchid, then gray through butter yellow, all along I had been spying bits of chickory blue that all landed in my kitchen once I repainted it. Thank you, Lindsay Ward, for helping me embrace the rainbow in my closet.