Redemption. That feels like a heavy topic. Heavy concept.
There’s all that religious baggage.
More relevant, more current, more universal, there’s Marley’s ‘Redemption Song’: ‘Emancipate yourself from mental slavery.’
Lying here, I can still hear Marley’s singing in my mind. No, not an irritation, not an ‘earworm’. It’d a good – no, a great song to have lodged in your head.
I guess you’re like me. Sometimes a song or tune, maybe sometimes just a lyric, get lodged.
An oddly-for-the-time-of-year warm day. Sitting outside eating lunch. A few yards away – birds. The frantic hunt for food, the competition for sustenance, the striving for a mate.
My frame of mind at the time led me to find it all predictable and fundamentally ugly.
Redemption came with the pleasure afforded by a blackbird’s arrival; both its appearance and its song.
And from that, to Marley, to lying here. ‘None but ourselves can free our minds.’ I have nothing to add.
Not In A Black Mood
I never associate black with the negative. I never say ‘I’m in a black mood’ or similar.
I veer by default to black’s simple purity. I consciously value the clarity afforded by black and white.
(The greys in between may – or may not – have their own meanings.)
Good grief. It’s even true that the blackbird is my favourite garden animal. And that’s with their imperfections.
It seems a strange thing to say, but I rarely think in colour. But – cognitive dissonance alert – I often wish our north European world was more colourful. Our buildings, our clothes … our artifacts. And, not literally, our outlook too? Perhaps. Probably.
It’s relatively well know that, for some, whether black (and white) are colours or shades is something to argue about.
Without a practical reason to get exercised by it, it’s not an argument that’s easy to be stirred by.