The blues in the night…

When you look out on the horizon, the further away the deeper blue that begins to appear giving the distant view a sort of dreamlike quality. It’s a documented phenomenon that many artist have duplicated, to different levels of success.
The clouds of blue that obscure our vision of the distance is a gradual thing and can be seen by anyone with eyes to look.
It’s comforting that in a way we as a species share this experience.
The blue continues to deepen as night occurs, the black night is truly just a deeper blue. black does not occur in nature, it is a man made color
Its kind of comforting that what we see as black, a desolate color, is actually a deep blue. A color that reminds me of the ocean and floating lazily across a slow flowing river in summer. Blue isn’t a cold color like black, its cool but in a soft way.
Blue can sweep you off your feet but it is considered a good traveling color, good for protections and meaning loyalty.
The deep blue water of the sea or lake is what the deep color of night brings to mind.
Blue is my favorite color, its the color of my eyes and it was the first color I saw when I was born.
My mothers eyes.
Blues have always had a calming effect, balancing out the reds and purples of the sunset. It brings peace to any situation, brings about a calm serenity that is lost in the reds and greens of life and vigor.
When you think of blues the music it brings to mind is the saxophone player and the jazz lounge singer in a smokey room.
the room is dark, filed with people who chat and talk with smiles and listen to the music.
Its not filled with sorrow mostly but a kind of melancholic longing is left stirring in the glass. Its a dim room, smokey around the edges that loosens the edge.
The jazz singers bring out the best and worst of life, they sing to the very soul oof every working man. It make sense in a way that the life they sing of is short and sad. The life they lived mirrors their song, orr maybe the other way around is better.
My dad was raised amongst the songs of the 40s, sinatra and the rat pack were the first songs he heard from his aunts radios.
It was a distant time, lost in the smoke of the horizon smokey blue against the blacck of today’s night.


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