Philosophy
This is me - gray, almost the most important color. /I.Ziedonis/
Gray is the most tolerant of colors, which reflects all other colors within it, leaving itself aside. It has the ability to generously give up attention and appreciation. But what would the world be without this wonderful shade of gray, which absorbed the nuances of all other colors. Gray is not black and white, as you might think, but admirable and sophisticated, always different, it adorns the whole range of colors. Like Latvian nature, which teaches to see and feel the gray. I'm not sad when the leaves fall off the trees, then the gray time begins - peace, harmony, when you don't have to fight against contrasting colors. If you don't know what to choose, choose me - gray!
Grey fairy tale
I am Gray. I am gray as mouse. I am gray as a bird, as dust, as ashes. I'm Dust. Just because I am, just because other colors can stand out.
Where am I?
Where can you see me? Everywhere.
But let's start with spring.
In a gray spring, everything is gray, the snow is melted, the ground is gray and the buds are gray.
But the gray bud bursts (it's my gray bud) and blooms - a poplar! Would the pope be so beautiful and white if I, Gray, were not so gray in spring? In a gray spring, a green tulip spills out of the gray earth, red rhubarb spills out of the gray earth like the horns of the devil.
Let's start in the morning. White mist sheets float in the meadow at dusk. Would the fog look so white if the morning wasn't so gray? The morning red sun rises in the gray sky, and everyone sees how beautiful it is. A golden moon is floating in the gray sky, and everyone is seeing - oh, how beautiful it is! But beautiful only because the sky was gray. I am before all colors. I am before all the colors that people are waiting for. On a gray morning they wait for the sun, on a gray night - for a moon. In gray spring they are waiting for flowers, in gray autumn - white snow. I'm Gray, and because of me, people are looking for other colors.
I am almost the most important color.
Everything only gets beautiful if you put me next.
The white angora cat is beautiful because I am next to it - Gray.
Where am I?
Where can you see me? Everywhere.
But let's start with spring.
In a gray spring, everything is gray, the snow is melted, the ground is gray and the buds are gray.
But the gray bud bursts (it's my gray bud) and blooms - a poplar! Would the pope be so beautiful and white if I, Gray, were not so gray in spring? In a gray spring, a green tulip spills out of the gray earth, red rhubarb spills out of the gray earth like the horns of the devil.
Let's start in the morning. White mist sheets float in the meadow at dusk. Would the fog look so white if the morning wasn't so gray? The morning red sun rises in the gray sky, and everyone sees how beautiful it is. A golden moon is floating in the gray sky, and everyone is seeing - oh, how beautiful it is! But beautiful only because the sky was gray. I am before all colors. I am before all the colors that people are waiting for. On a gray morning they wait for the sun, on a gray night - for a moon. In gray spring they are waiting for flowers, in gray autumn - white snow. I'm Gray, and because of me, people are looking for other colors.
I am almost the most important color.
Everything only gets beautiful if you put me next.
The white angora cat is beautiful because I am next to it - Gray.
Without gray sparrows, there could be nothing to compare canaries to.
Colored birds are beautiful because there are gray birds.
White mice are nice because there are gray mice, white sands because there are gray.
I am Gray. I help all the colors.
If they don't know themselves, I push them out of themselves so that everyone can watch. I pushed a colored rainbow out of my gray rain cloud. I'm not jealous, I'm not sorry, I'm staying behind. I blow the paint out of myself as the gray soapy water blows a colored bubble at the end of the straw. Have you blown like that? Then you know that I am the one who helps you - I, Gray.
What do I look like?
I have already said: look at the dust, look at the mice, look at the ashes.
And then throw a colored button in the ashes.
Well, you see?
It's a beautiful, colorful button, isn't it?
And behind it?
What's behind it?
It's me - Gray.
Colored birds are beautiful because there are gray birds.
White mice are nice because there are gray mice, white sands because there are gray.
I am Gray. I help all the colors.
If they don't know themselves, I push them out of themselves so that everyone can watch. I pushed a colored rainbow out of my gray rain cloud. I'm not jealous, I'm not sorry, I'm staying behind. I blow the paint out of myself as the gray soapy water blows a colored bubble at the end of the straw. Have you blown like that? Then you know that I am the one who helps you - I, Gray.
What do I look like?
I have already said: look at the dust, look at the mice, look at the ashes.
And then throw a colored button in the ashes.
Well, you see?
It's a beautiful, colorful button, isn't it?
And behind it?
What's behind it?
It's me - Gray.
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