Buttermellow

A sweet short study of my favourite yellows: a colour so good you can taste it. It’s also a feeling I’m always chasing that somehow often captures me …

My favourite made up word: buttermellow.

Sunshine on my face.

Cheddar

My favorite shoes

The delighted peals of laughter associated with playing in water: bathtubs, swimming pools, sprinklers, fountains, the Mediterranean. Splish Splash Giggle.

Lemon flavoured gelato. Fresh pineapple (so good you’ll let it eat you right back). Ripe mango. The inside of a peach. Woolies lemon curd double cream yoghurt. Deep fried slap chips made under mildly questionable health & safety circumstances.

Harp music’s dreamy lilt (tell me it doesn’t sound yellow).

Sunflowers. Yellow roses, daisies. The yellow carpet of wildflowers adorning Namaqualand in early Spring.

Marc Jacobs: Daisy Sunshine ea de parfum.

Very Specific feely feels:
The moment you realise you’ve effortlessly clicked with another human; look into their eyes and realise that there’s no going back and that no matter what happens you’ll never be the same again. Making children giggle. The first 10 seconds of your new favourite song when you know it will have you in a chokehold and you will relentlessly play it until the artist climbs out the speaker to demand a water break. When you’re dancing with your chest and forget that people can see you (or that moment when you want people to look because you’re magic). Being embraced by someone you love. When you find something in real life that you’d enthusiastically pin on Pinterest. That surreal moment during a live music performance when you’re floating above your body. The look in my grandmother’s eyes when she sees me. Motoho, moroho le magwinya (never ever together, lol).

Egg yolk: Scrambled or solid, runny. Delicious.

Inglot eyeshadow number #60

Joy. Not happiness: Joy is absofreakinglutely yellow!

Poetry: “In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.” – Rumi

Pink: it doesn’t make sense but I stand by it.

Friendship.

Fanta pineapple circa 2004

The LalaLand soundtrack (even the sad songs) and Moana singing “I am Moana [Song of the Ancestors]” when her ancestors come to her in her darkest hour and simultaneously gather AND deliver her.

Love: feels like being yellow all over.

Warmth: the warmth a lovers smile. You fill me up with unexpected delight, It’s so disarming that you can make me tingle so hard I can even feel it in my toes. It’s a gentle sort of magic, this spreading warmth in my chest.
Even now, I know I’m writing about you. And I’ll recognise you because you’ll feel: yellow.

My eternal mood: There’s always room for yellow.

Haphazard Scrapbook