Complementary Color Quotes

However, this sceptic had one fanaticism. This fanaticism was neither a dogma, nor an idea, nor an art, nor a science; it was a man: Enjolras. Grantaire admired, loved, and venerated Enjolras. To whom did this anarchical scoffer unite himself in this phalanx of absolute minds? To the most absolute. In what manner had Enjolras subjugated him? By his ideas? No. By his character. A phenomenon which is often observable. A sceptic who adheres to a believer is as simple as the law of complementary colors. That which we lack attracts us. No one loves the light like the blind man. The dwarf adores the drum-major. The toad always has his eyes fixed on heaven. Why? In order to watch the bird in its flight. Grantaire, in whom writhed doubt, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras. He had need of Enjolras. That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him.

To express the love of two lovers by the marriage of two complementary colours, their blending and their contrast, the mysterious vibrations of related tones. To express the thought of a brow by the radiance of a light tone against a dark background. To express hope by some star. Someone's passion by the radiance of the setting sun. That's certainly no realistic trompe l'oeil, but something that really exists, isn't it?

I keep hoping that I’ll come up with something. To express the love of two lovers by the marriage of two complementary colours, their blending and their contrast, the mysterious vibrations of related tones. To express that thought of a brow by the radiance of a light tone against a dark background. To express hope by some star. Someone’s passion by the radiance of the setting sun.

We'd slipped beyond the real world and hovered where darkness and light made love to create the colors in the universe.

That September pairing of purple and gold is lived reciprocity; its wisdom is that the beauty of one is illuminated by the radiance of the other. Science and art, matter and spirit, indigenous knowledge and Western science—can they be goldenrod and asters for each other? When I am in their presence, their beauty asks me for reciprocity, to be the complementary color, to make something beautiful in response.

Swatches of color to close the wounds. Lines to tie it down. Layers upon layers, until the sound of their voices formed a hum.

At first sight, they were still an unlikely match—opposites in looks, upbringing, and temperament. But on the artist's color wheel, two opposite colors were considered complementary. Their high contrast caused high impact, and they looked their brightest when placed next to each other.

You better be glad that thing is attached, or it would follow me home. Then I’d have to keep it.

The tapestry of family and friends that wove together around me was a beautiful, glowing thing, full of their bright, complementary colors.

Fifteen sunflowers, some in bloom and some turning. Yellow on yellow pigment that darkened to ochre. Yellow earthenware vase decorated by a complementary blue line that cut across its middle. The original was painted by one of the loneliest men on earth. But painted in a frenzy of optimism and gratitude and hope. A celebration of the transcendent power of the color yellow.

All I could do was suck in air through my gaping mouth and pray I wouldn’t pass out.

The idea being that although red and green sit opposite one another on the color wheel, when placed adjacently on the canvas they become complementary, in that the red will appear redder, and the green will appear to be greener: they bring the best out in each other.

If a fountain could jet bouquets of chrome yellow in dazzling arches of chrysanthemum fireworks, that would be Canada Goldenrod. Each three-foot stem is a geyser of tiny gold daisies, ladylike in miniature, exuberant en masse. Where the soil is damp enough, they stand side by side with their perfect counterpart, New England Asters. Not the pale domesticates of the perennial border, the weak sauce of lavender or sky blue, but full-on royal purple that would make a violet shrink. The daisylike fringe of purple petals surrounds a disc as bright as the sun at high noon, a golden-orange pool, just a tantalizing shade darker than the surrounding goldenrod. Alone, each is a botanical superlative. Together, the visual effect is stunning. Purple and gold, the heraldic colors of the king and queen of the meadow, a regal procession in complementary colors. I just wanted to know why. In composing a palette, putting them together makes each more vivid; just a touch of one will bring out the other. In an 1890 treatise on color perception, Goethe, who was both a scientist and a poet, wrote that “the colors diametrically opposed to each other . . . are those which reciprocally evoke each other in the eye.” Purple and yellow are a reciprocal pair. Growing together, both receive more pollinator visits than they would if they were growing alone. It’s a testable hypothesis; it’s a question of science, a question of art, and a question of beauty. Why are they beautiful together? It is a phenomenon simultaneously material and spiritual, for which we need all wavelengths, for which we need depth perception. When I stare too long at the world with science eyes, I see an afterimage of traditional knowledge. Might science and traditional knowledge be purple and yellow to one another, might they be goldenrod and asters? We see the world more fully when we use both. The question of goldenrod and asters was of course just emblematic of what I really wanted to know. It was an architecture of relationships, of connections that I yearned to understand. I wanted to see the shimmering threads that hold it all together. And I wanted to know why we love the world, why the most ordinary scrap of meadow can rock us back on our heels in awe.

Often, when I looked back over my first three months as an immortal, I imagined how the thread of my life might look in the Fates’ loom—who knew but that it actually existed? I was sure my thread must have changed color; I thought it had probably started out as a nice beige, something supportive and non-confrontational, something that would look good in the background. Now it felt like it must be bright crimson, or maybe glistening gold. The tapestry of family and friends that wove together around me was a beautiful, glowing thing, full of their bright, complementary colors.

I don't have money, but you do, so you can buy yourself everything I can't." He put his finger over my lips, stopping another reply. "But there are some things money can't get you. Things I know you've never had." His touch followed the curve of my mouth, sending a shiver through me. "That's what I have to offer you, if you'll give me the chance.

Sovint […] m'imaginava com devia ser el fil de la meva vida en el teler de les parques. Qui sap si existia de veritat. Estava convençuda que el meu fil devia haver canviat de color. Creia que segurament hauria començat sent d'un bonic to beix, altruista i passiu, que quedés bé com a fons, però ara em donava la sensació que devia ser carmesí o daurat brillant. El tapís de família i amics que es teixia al voltant meu era preciós, lluent, ple de colors vius i complementaris. Em vaig quedar parada d'alguns dels fils que havia hagut d'incloure a la meva vida. […] Malgrat tot, en aquella joia hi havia un revers. M'imaginava que, si es girava el tapís de les nostres vides, l'estampat del dors devia estar teixit amb els inhòspits grisos dels dubtes i les pors.

On the American desert are horses which eat the locoweed and some are driven made by it; their vision is affected, they take enormous leaps to cross a tuft of grass or tumble blindly into rivers. The horses which have become thus addicted are shunned by the others and will never rejoin the herd. So it is with human beings: those who are conscious of another world, the world of the spirit, acquire an outlook which distorts the values of ordinary life; they are consumed by the weed of non-attachment. Curiosity is their one excess and therefore they are recognized not by what they do, but by what they refrain from doing, like those Araphants or disciples of Buddha who are pledged to the "Nine Incapabilities." Thus they do not take life, they do not compete, they do not boast, they do not join groups of more than six, they do not condemn others; they are "abandoners of revels, mute, contemplative" who are depressed by gossip, gaiety and equals, who wait to be telephoned to, who neither speak in public, nor keep up with their friends, nor take revenge upon their enemies. Self-knowledge has taught them to abandon hate and blame and envy in their lives, and they look sadder than they are. They seldom make positive assertions because they see, outlined against any statement, as a painter sees a complementary color, the image of its opposite. Most psychological questionnaires are designed to search out these moonlings and to secure their non-employment. They divine each other by a warm indifference for they know that they are not intended to forgather, but, like stumps of phosphorus in the world's wood, each to give forth his misleading radiance.

The human eye has three kinds. One type excels at detecting red and associated wavelengths. One is tuned to blue. The other optimally perceives light of two colors: purple and yellow. The human eye is superbly equipped to detect these colors and send a signal pulsing to the brain. This doesn’t explain why I perceive them as beautiful, but it does explain why that combination gets my undivided attention. I asked my artist buddies about the power of purple and gold, and they sent me right to the color wheel: these two are complementary colors, as different in nature as could be. In composing a palette, putting them together makes each more vivid; just a touch of one will bring out the other. In an 1890 treatise on color perception, Goethe, who was both a scientist and a poet, wrote that “the colors diametrically opposed to each other . . . are those which reciprocally evoke each other in the eye.” Purple and yellow are a reciprocal pair.

However, this sceptic had one fanaticism. This fanaticism was neither a dogma, nor an idea, nor an art, nor a science; it was a man: Enjolras. Grantaire admired, loved, and venerated Enjolras. To whom did this anarchical scoffer unite himself in this phalanx of absolute minds? To the most absolute. In what manner had Enjolras subjugated him? By Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 1119 his ideas? No. By his character. A phenomenon which is often observable. A sceptic who adheres to a believer is as simple as the law of complementary colors. That which we lack attracts us. No one loves the light like the blind man. The dwarf adores the drum-major. The toad always has his eyes fixed on heaven. Why? In order to watch the bird in its flight. Grantaire, in whom writhed doubt, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras. He had need of Enjolras. That chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid nature charmed him, without his being clearly aware of it, and without the idea of explaining it to himself having occurred to him. He admired his opposite by instinct. His soft, yielding, dislocated, sickly, shapeless ideas attached themselves to Enjolras as to a spinal column. His moral backbone leaned on that firmness. Grantaire in the presence of Enjolras became some one once more. He was, himself, moreover, composed of two elements, which were, to all appearance, incompatible. He was ironical and cordial. His indifference loved. His mind could get along without belief, but his heart could not get along without friendship. A profound contradiction; for an affection is a conviction. His nature was thus constituted. There are men who seem to be born to be the reverse, the obverse, the wrong side. They are Pollux, Patrocles, Nisus, Eudamidas, Ephestion, Pechmeja. They only exist on condition that they are backed up with another man; their name is a sequel, and is only written preceded by the conjunction and; and their existence is not their own; it is the other side of an existence which is not theirs. Grantaire was one of these men. He was the obverse of Enjolras

And then there are colors. The truth is that the brain knows far less about colors than one might suppose. It sees more or less clearly what the eyes show it, but when it comes to converting what it has seen into knowledge, it often suffers from one might call difficulties in orientation. Thanks to the unconscious confidence of a lifetime's experience, it unhesitatingly utters the names of the colors it calls elementary and complementary, but it immediately lost, perplexed and uncertain when it tries to formulate words that might serve as labels or explanatory markers for the things that verge on the ineffable, that border on the incommunicable, for the still nascent color which, with the eyes' other bemused approval and complicity, the hands and fingers are in the process of inventing and which will probably never even have its own name. Or perhaps it already does -- a name known only to the hands, because they mixed the paint as if they were dismantling the constituent parts of a note of music, because they became smeared with the color and kept the stain deep inside the dermis, and because only with the invisible knowledge of the fingers will one ever be able to paint the infinite fabric of dreams. Trusting in what the eyes believe they have seen, the brain-in-the-head states that, depending on conditions of light and shade, on the presence or absence of wind, on whether it is wet or dry, the beach is white or yellow or olden or gray or purple or any other shade in between, but then along comes the fingers and, with a gesture of gathering in, as if harvesting a wheat field, they pluck from the ground all the colors of the world. What seemed unique was plural, what is plural will become more so. It is equally true, though, that in the exultant flash of a single tone or shade, or in its musical modulation, all the other tones and shades are also present and alive, both the tones or shades of colors that have already been name, as well as those awaiting names, just as an apparently smooth, flat surface can both conceal and display the traces of everything ever experience in the history of the world. All archaeology of matter is an archaeology of humanity. What this clay hides and shows is the passage of a being through time and space, the marks left by fingers, the scratches left by fingernails, the ashes and the charred logs of burned-out bonfires, our bones and those of others, the endlessly bifurcating paths disappearing off into the distance and merging with each other. This grain on the surface is a memory, this depression the mark left by a recumbent body. The brain asked a question and made a request, the hand answered and acted.

Così mi trovo sempre nel corso di due correnti di idee; la prima sono le difficoltà materiali, questo girarsi e rigirarsi per crearsi faticosamente un'esistenza; e la seconda, lo studio del colore. Non perderò mai la speranza di riuscire a scoprire qualcosa lì dentro. Poter esprimere l'amore di due innamorati mediante l'accoppiamento, il miscuglio e la opposizione di due complementari, mediante le vibrazioni misteriose dei toni ravvicinati. Poter esprimere il pensiero di una fronte con lo splendore di un tono chiaro su sfondo scuro. Poter esprimere ancora la speranza per mezzo di una stella; l'ardore di un essere, con gli ultimi sprazzi di un tramonto. Sembra un trucco realista; e non è invece qualcosa che realmente esiste?

Ronan's trying to wake up the world. I'm trying to think of how to talk him out of it, but what he's talking about is a world where she never fell asleep. A world where Matthew's just a kid. A world where it doesn't matter what Hennessy does, if something happens to her. A level playing field. I don't think it's a good idea, but it's not like I can't see the appeal, because now I'm biased, I'm too biased to be clear." Declan shook his head a little. "I said I would never become my father, anything like him. And now look at me. At us." Ah, there it was. It took no effort to remember the way he'd looked at her the first moment he realized she was a dream. "I'm a dream," Jordan said. "I'm not your dream." Declan put his chin in his hand and looked back out the window; that, too, would be a good portrait. Perhaps it was just because she liked looking at him that she thought each pose would make a good one. A series. What a future that idea promised, nights upon nights like this, him sitting there, her standing here. "By the time we're married," Declan said eventually, "I want you to have applied for a different studio in this place because this man's paintings are very ugly." Her pulse gently skipped two beats before continuing on as before. "I don't have a social security number of my own, Pozzi." "I'll buy you one," Declan said. "You can wear it in place of a ring." The two of them looked at each other past the canvas on her easel. Finally, he said, voice soft, "I should see the painting now." "Are you sure?" "It's time, Jordan." Putting his jacket to the side, he stood. He waited. He would not come around to look without an invite. It's time, Jordan. Jordan had never been truly honest with anyone who didn't wear Hennessy's face. Showing him this painting, this original, felt like being more honest than she had ever been in her life. She stepped back to give him room. Declan took it in. His eyes flickered to and from the likeness, from the jacket on Portrait Declan's leg to the real jacket he'd left behind on the chair. She watched his gaze follow the line edge she had taken such care to paint, that subtle electricity of complementary colors at the edge of his form. "It's very good," Declan muttered. "Jordan, it's very good." "I thought it might be." "I don't know if it's a sweetmetal. But you're very good." "I thought I might be." "The next one will be even better." "I think it might be." "And in ten years your scandalous masterpiece will get you thrown out of France, too," he said. "And later you can triumphantly sell it to the Met. Children will write papers about you. People like me will tell stories about you to their dates at museums to make them think they're interesting." She kissed him. He kissed her. And this kiss, too, got all wrapped up in the art-making of the portrait sitting on the easel beside them, getting all mixed in with all the other sights and sounds and feelings that had become part of the process. It was very good.

ave you noticed the focus these days is back on the simple things of life? What's the first thing you do when you pick a rose? You smell the fragrance. Maybe it brings back a memory of the time you picked flowers for your mom. Perhaps it's time to recapture some of that girlhood simplicity. A lavender sachet in your drawer can be an unexpected and simple pleasure. Spray a little cologne on your notepaper or even on the bathroom throw rug. Or better yet, boil a little pot of cinnamon and enjoy the aroma. Put on lively music while you do your housework. Light candles for a quiet yet festive atmosphere. When we find satisfaction in the little things in life, we are happier and more willing to look for the positive in bigger things. olor in your home can make a world of difference. It can help you redefine spaces. If an area is too large, add a throw rug in a complementary color and create a "get together" spot. Add some soft colored curtains for a change of seasons. The idea is to create intimacy, a place that's inviting on a chilly evening or a warm spring afternoon. The richer the colors, the more welcoming the space. Red is great for warmth. Go for it! And shades of cranberry and plum work well. Experiment and step out of your comfort zone. Your home can be a place that gives you a feeling of quiet for thinking about what really counts in life and also be a festive atmosphere for celebrating. on't put all your emotional eggs in one basket. Our work consumes much of our time, and that's natural. And for some of you, that's 95 percent of your awake hours. Is it time to change your focus-to make life a little easier and less stressful for

He pulled me by my shoulder. The change in angle allowed his long thick cock to reach parts of me that were never meant to be touched. My vision darkened, and every beat of my heart fought the constriction in my chest. I went beyond pleasure, into some realm where sensations worked like a creature eating me alive. All I could do was suck in air through my gaping mouth and pray I wouldn’t pass out.

Seurat took to heart the color theorists' notion of a scientific approach to painting. He believed that a painter could use color to create harmony and emotion in art in the same way that a musician uses counterpoint and variation to create harmony in music. He theorized that the scientific application of color was like any other natural law, and he was driven to prove this conjecture. He thought that the knowledge of perception and optical laws could be used to create a new language of art based on its own set of heuristics and he set out to show this language using lines, color intensity and color schema. Seurat called this language Chromoluminarism.[27] In a letter to the writer Maurice Beaubourg in 1890 he wrote: "Art is Harmony. Harmony is the analogy of the contrary and of similar elements of tone, of colour and of line. In tone, lighter against darker. In colour, the complementary, red-green, orange-blue, yellow-violet. In line, those that form a right-angle. The frame is in a harmony that opposes those of the tones, colours and lines of the picture, these aspects are considered according to their dominance and under the influence of light, in gay, calm or sad combinations".[29][30] Seurat's theories can be summarized as follows: The emotion of gaiety can be achieved by the domination of luminous hues, by the predominance of warm colors, and by the use of lines directed upward. Calm is achieved through an equivalence/balance of the use of the light and the dark, by the balance of warm and cold colors, and by lines that are horizontal. Sadness is achieved by using dark and cold colors and by lines pointing downward

What would it feel like to know I was safe, not because of a lock on the door but because of the line of warmth pressed against me and the weight of an arm around my ribs?

asked my artist buddies about the power of purple and gold, and they sent me right to the color wheel: these two are complementary colors, as different in nature as could be. In composing a palette, putting them together makes each more vivid; just a touch of one will bring out the other.

He went to Vietnam. He had some problems when he came back. By the time he got himself sorted out, they had no interest in him anymore.

It was then I realized we knew each other because we walked the road of madness together. Shoulder to shoulder, even hand

Roy had been real too. A wrinkle in the silk. A glorious imperfection.

It was there, my confession. The truth to my lie. It perched on my tongue waiting to be freed. All I had to do was open my mouth. Breathe the words. He was close enough he’d hear even the softest whisper. And maybe if I said it quietly enough, no one would ever know.

The weight those thoughts created in my chest wasn’t unfamiliar only forgotten. Then in that moment, there in the solitude, a sliver of happiness rose through years of darkness and neared the surface. A precious memory from a time before the screaming inside my head spilled out into the world. Sometimes it was like that, and those rare pieces of my past were treasures that gave me a reason to live.

The kiss was brutal, deep, fast. More people were on the street now, more cars, more noise. But none of it could touch us. We’d slipped beyond the real world and hovered where darkness and light made love to create the colors of the universe.

I knew he didn’t belong the moment I saw him.

Then he cradled me against his body—cherishing me, protecting me—and I clung to him. My life raft in the torrid wake of existence. I realized then I’d been waiting my entire life to find him.

Under the halogen lights, his green eyes were some shade of black that had no name, clear, dark, and on fire. If he’d been any other man, I would have had him eating out of my palm, but I was the one who’d been tamed.

Will you let me?” I swallowed, but my voice still cracked. “What?” “Love you.” Roy rubbed his cheek against mine. “Please, Paris. I know it’s not what you’re used to, and it might not even be what you want, but it’s the most valuable thing I have.” Those colors I didn’t know had a name now.

Red: Most yang, warm, and stimulating. Produces heat. Stimulates vital energy and circulation of the blood. Stimulates sensory nervous systems and energizes the five basic senses. Stimulates the healing of wounds without pus. Used in treatment of chronic infections. Too much red leads to anger and hyperactivity. Orange: Gentle yang, tonifies. Stimulates appetite, relieves cramps and spasms, increases blood pressure, induces vomiting, relieves gas, builds bones. When used with blue, regulates the endocrine system. Stimulates joy, optimism, and enthusiasm. Yellow: Yang, and the brightest of all colors. Strengthens motor nervous system and metabolism, and aids conditions of the glandular, lymphatic, and digestive systems. Stimulates intellectual functions; boosts cheerfulness and confidence. Green: Neutral yin. Slightly cooling. Treats conditions of the lungs, eyes, diabetes, musculoskeletal and inflammatory joint problems, and ulcers. Is antibacterial and aids in detoxification. Calms, soothes, and balances. Blue: Yin or cool. Relaxes body and mind, reduces fever, congestion, itching, irritation, and pain. Treats high blood pressure, burns, inflammations with pus and diseases involving heat. Contracts tissues and muscles. Calms and tranquilizes when used on the pituitary and pineal acupoints. Helpful for insomnia, phobias, and endocrine imbalances. Not indicated for depression as it is a melancholy color. Violet: Most yin color. Aids the spleen, reduces irritability, and balances the right brain. When combined with yellow, increases lymph production, controls hunger, and balances the nervous system. Acts on the unconscious.35 Complementary Colors The complementary color pairs are: red-green, orange-blue, and yellow-violet. Together, these colors balance yin and yang. For example, red might stimulate the blood and improve circulation while green calms conditions creating stress. Blue might assuage pain while orange lifts fear or depression causing tension. Yellow will strengthen the nervous system while violet calms it with a meditative state.

As the subtleties of nature unfold, they are found to be further and further removed from simple mechanisms so that mind no longer appears to be alien to the universe. Likewise the synchronicities that form a bridge between matter and mind can not be be reduced to a single level of description. Rather, complementary descriptions, approaches, and metaphors are necessary so that synchronicity appears as through the facets of a rotating crystal, constantly displaying new forms and colors that are the reflections of an underlying ground.

If you want to make a color brighter, you put it next to its complementary color, its opposite on the color wheel. It doesn’t actually change the color, but it looks that way.” “The fact that Gabriel and I worked well together was just an optical illusion?” “But if you mix those complementary colors together, they create the darkest shadows.” She scrunches her nose. “Please tell me this analogy isn’t about sex.” “Of course it’s about sex. Art is always about sex. That’s the second thing I learned as an artist.

The important thing is that complementary colors don’t want to mix together. They want to be next to each other.

120 stunning color combination ideas - We take you through the basics of combining colors and offer 120 stunning color combinations inspired by nature, wildlife, food & drink, and travel. Your choice of colors can set the tone of your entire project, so choosing wisely is crucial. After all, you don’t want your colors conveying a mood that is opposite to what the project calls for and you certainly don’t want a color combination that is off-putting or confusing to the eye. We briefly explain the science behind choosing the right mix of colors, and then give you 120 beautiful color combinations that you can start using immediately. Let’s jump right in! The science of combining colors Believe it or not, there’s a science to creating color combinations and it’s actually not complicated to grasp. All you need is the color wheel, and an understanding of five different combination styles that each has its own place in your bag of tricks. Complementary color combination Complementary refers to a 2-color combination where the colors are opposite from each other on the color wheel. The two colors complement each other through their contrast, which allows each color to stand out. Monochromatic color combination Monochromatic refers to a combination of different shades, tones and tints of the same color, by adding black, white or grey to the original color. A monochromatic color combination is traditional and subtle. Triadic color combination Triadic colors refers to a 3-color combination that forms a perfect triangle on the color wheel. There’s not as much contrast as there is with complementary colors, but there’s enough to let each color do its thing. Analogous color combination Analogous is another 3-color combination, this time colors that are adjacent to each other on the colour wheel. With this color combination, it’s best to make one color dominant and use the others as accents. Tetradic color combination Tetradic refers to a 4-color combination where the colors are placed in a perfect square around the color wheel (essentially two pairs of complementary colors). To achieve balance with so many colors, it’s best to keep one color dominant and use the rest as accents. Color combination based on nature Sometimes nature knows best. If you find a color combination that appears somewhere in nature, chances are it’s a winning combination, as you can see from the examples in many of the examples that follow.