It began with Red

When I saw this week’s writing challenge I thought to myself, here is something I can do. I’m from the Caribbean, colour is in our blood, I could really sink my teeth in it and give it a go. So I started with the ending in mind.

It began with Red.

I knew I wanted to end by saying: I’m red-hot and full-hearted and something about passion. But working backwards all day, I couldn’t come up with anything coherent.

My first thought walking to work this morning was writing about red wine. I wanted to expound about the fact that I love red wine and prefer it every time to white. That the first sip of nicely chilled, dark red, full-bodied wine, is sometimes the absolute perfect end to my day. The best way to unwind and relax from the crap I have to deal with at work. Or I could get a little more personal and say one glass is nice but two glasses…well let’s just say, red could take on the sexy shades of passion. But who really wants to put all their business in the road? Right?!

Then I thought maybe I could talk about my short fuse, kinda like a bull seeing red. But again, we’ll be stepping into some personal territory not to mention the fact that it’s so cliché and I still am not sure where this post is heading. And do I really want to talk about how I can go from 0-60 in two seconds flat – red-hot anger, razor-sharp tongue capable of decimating everything in my path with red lasers shooting out of my eyes and then once I’ve calmed down which usually takes about the same amount of time…I’m back to being a kitten? Man, do I really want people to see me as a kitten though?

Maybe I should talk some more about red wine.

Or I could take it in a whole other direction and talk about blood. That the sight of it completely freaks me out, a trauma I go through every month. I could share about how, I want sons someday and that I already have a little speech planned for them when they are old enough to understand that mummy will cry harder than they can at the sight of blood. Should they ever get a bad cut or break any bones, the go-to parent would be their father, because mummy will not be able to help them.

Hmmm, I’m pretty sure at this point that I’m not doing this challenge right. Now I’m thinking about traffic lights and that the red light means STOP and maybe I shouldn’t even publish this. Maybe I would have done better choosing green or even yellow. Yellow reminds me of that Coldplay song though.

It’s hard corralling my thoughts, being Trini is not helping me one bit and I’m back to thinking about wine again. Maybe if I were home, I could have a glass of wine and the words might just pour right out of me. Or maybe not.

When in doubt…Google it! Here I learned that there are 285 shades of visibly different red to the naked eye, for a person without any colour blindness and 20/20 vision. Of these we have:

Scarlet. The colour of our national bird the Scarlet Ibis. Scarlett. The name for the female lead in one of my all time favourite novels, Gone With The Wind. And one of my all time favourite quotes, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

Maroon. The descendents of Africans who refused to live in slavery in Jamaica from as early as 1655 and to this day, are to a small extent autonomous and separate from Jamaican culture. According to Google, the name Maroon is the British corruption of the Spanish cimarrones, meaning wild or untamed. Also the name of one of my favourite bands Maroon 5. I love you Adam Levine.

Crimson. Aaah blood again, only this time I’m thinking about Dexter and True Blood. Funny, they are two of my favourites despite all the gore!

Ruby. Makes me think about ruby slippers and yellow brick roads and finding my way to a cohesive post and a bombshell ending to rather scattered thoughts.

Wine-Red. Taaah dah!!! Need I say more?



  1. October 17, 2012 / 6:09 pm

    Hello Vernette, I enjoyed your post and the wandering thoughts are a good thing. I have to admit that when I did enjoy alcohol (let’s not go there right now), my favourite would have been a chilled white. I liked the wine … it didn’t like me, but then it was all a matter of taste. I digress.
    I felt I had to drop in to your blog after reading your mention of your review of ’50 Shades’.
    I reviewed it on my blog a short while back and reported that I found it was’n’t all it promised to be. In a nutshell I could tell from the characters and the sort of ‘action’ that was supposedly going on that Mrs. James was talking out of the place that her Mr. Grey would have spanked had he been real.
    The author proved to me within a couple of chapters that she had little knowledge of and probably no experience of the BDSM side of life.
    Anyway after the serious spanking she deserved, E.L.James’s posterior would be the same colour as your post … and so here we are back to Red.
    Nice to meet you!

    • October 17, 2012 / 6:14 pm

      Hi there Tom, thank you for reading and very nice to meet you too. I absolutely agree with your view on the author of 50 Shades and BDSM. I felt that the book was an old Mills & Boon romance with vampires and really bad sex. And really…how many “oh my’s” can a real person really say?!

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