Collectively, we are so much more than colors. We are the beating, impregnable heart of our country – now brought to our knees in the fetid air, on the bloodied streets, yet if you look up, we are the cerulean sky and the golden amulet of the sun.
Now we flee in dirty blue shirts, yet one day, the tattered yellow flags that hang in blown out windows will be gathered together, resewn into a greater awareness as all that ends must eventually bear out a fresh beginning.
Like death, this smoke is temporary, and as it clears, our truest nature is revealed by the burgeoning light of the sun, a sudden and endless shock of blue that extends the entire length of the world. Look up! We are roiling there in the heavens, breaking out from behind the shadowed skies of Kharkiv, the burned-out shells of buildings still smoldering in the ugly gray morning. We will come back to ourselves, reanimated on the stale and sickening air.
Blue and gold shine our mantle of resistance, and as the sun breaks over the blackened fields, we once again take our place. No one man owns the sky as with each new combustion, the purloined buildings and the rising swathes of poisonous smoke, Blue and Gold reconnoiter again, to bring forth the future, rising yet again from the past.
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Ed Ruscha, Pay Nothing Until April, 2003
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Johannes Vermeer, Girl with the Pearl Earring, 1665
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Devin Troy Strother, bitch lemme get a ride on yo dolphin tho said Mary to Quiesha, 2013
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John Baldessari, Fissures (Orange) and Ribbons (Orange, Blue): With Multiple Figures (Red, Green, Yellow), Plus Single Figure (Yellow) in Harness (Violet) and Balloons (Violet, Red, Yellow, Grey), 2004
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Abraham Cruzvillegas, Tres Sonetos (installation view), 2022
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Craig Kaufman, No. 1, 1963
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Laura Owens, UNTITLED , 2013
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April Bey, Should I Flex? Yeah I Should., 2021
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