the chroma chronicles

the colors of our stories

[thechromachronicles]

As part of a cub scout outing I recall, we visited an apple orchard in the fall outside of Detroit in the more hilly countryside (Detroit is table-top flat in Southeastern Michigan).  I recall the apple trees with their greenery, the “millions” of red apples being harvested and processed for juice and cider.  Walking around the surrounding area, some of the trees were in full autumn color: yellows, oranges, reds, browns, some green, with leaves providing a carpet like ground cover in spots. It was all a rich array of color, fall crispness in the air, and highlighted by the hilly terrain which was fascinating as well.  I was perhaps 7 or 8 years old.

- Alan Solomon, Los Angeles, CA

[thechromachronicles]

I was probably 5, I was having a bad dream someone was chasing me in the dream it was all in black and white. When I woke up I called for my mom in the house & she didn’t come. So I got out of bed and started calling and searching. It was so scary, the house felt like it was black and white. I just remember how everything was devoid of color (probably because it was a night). It sort of felt a little like I hadn’t woke up from the dream as I searched the house for her & realized that she wasn’t there. I walked across the street to a neighbor’s house and knocked on the door. That yellow from her door is the only color is a sea of darkness that I remember. The memory is filled with black and grey and the teeniest sliver of yellow. They ended up finding my mom, she was drinking & smoking at another neighbor’s house. She was so furious with me for making her look bad.

- Wendy Crabb, Burbank, CA

[thechromachronicles]

a couple of weeks after we moved to ecuador, i was visiting organizations that were looking for volunteers. there was a an after school program for kids that i wanted to visit and i was given instructions on how to get there by bus (this was before smart phones with internet access). in spanish. i was still relying on my high school spanish and wasn’t sure if i understood how to get there but i got on what i thought was the correct bus and hoped i was going the right way. the bus stopped where i thought i was supposed to get off and I remember climbing off and being in front of a beautiful bright turquoise house. i was so scared i was going to forever be lost in this new city. i stood there and reviewed the directions in my head and found the center. i associate that turquoise color with fear and adventure and relief of not forever being lost in a remote neighborhood in Quito. - Risa Friedman, Denver, CO

[thechromachronicles]

My very first clear memory is from when I was 2 years old an my mom and I went back to Japan for her mother’s (my grandmother’s) funeral.

Because I was so small I don’t remember much distinctly, except for this: my mother was wearing a black kimono with a white crest (and she was crying).

There was also a Buddhist Monk dressed in black sitting on a tatami floor (I remember that smell, but that isn’t chroma).

- Lisa Solomon, Oakland, CA

[thechromachronicles]

what is this ?

this is a project by the artist Lisa Solomon. in 2019 she was a resident at the San Jose Museum of Quilts and Textiles. while there she started collecting stories. YOUR STORIES.

she is collecting these stories thru June 30, 2019.  in particular she is looking for a memory that is solidly tied to a color[s] in your mind. 

she is curious how we remember things. many of her own memories are distinctly tied to a specific color. color is pervasive and subjective. 

quilts will be made from these stories and colors. this blog will document the process. 

do you have story you want to tell her? she’d love to hear it. when you send her a story, she’ll send you parts of the color chart above so you can find a corresponding hex code. get in touch