EDIT: As Ming pointed out, technically white is the presence of ALL colors,
and black is the absence. To make a long story short, when you see a
"white" object, the object is absorbing all the light and so none of it
bounces back to your eye. "Black" objects reflect all the light back to
your eye and so you see all the colors.
However, Robin talks about colors from an artistic point of view rather than a scientific one.
Chapter 1: Black and White
It wasn't exactly what most people would call a beautiful day. But personally, I think the weather was just perfect. Cold drizzly days are so. . .cozy, somehow. The sky seems to sink almost low enough to reach, and everything glistens with the rain. I smiled slightly as the light raindrops caressed my face. This wasn't the first time I had moved away... things became pretty much unbearable two years ago, and I've been constantly on the run ever since. But the time was slipping through my fingers like sand, and in fact it was probably the last time I would ever move. But I wasn't really afraid. . .No, in fact, sometimes I longed for what was coming. But I knew one thing for sure: I had to make use of what little time I had left.
The scent of cool rain relaxed me as I stepped up the cement stairs toward my new school and home. Step by step, the building came into my view as I cleared the stairs. The academy was surrounded by a fine silver mist, nearby a tall (and somewhat phallic) tower climbed into the dark sky. It made me wonder about the architect, and even more about the administrator. Further in the background, I saw a dark foggy hill, which was difficult to make out on account of the thundercloud hovering above it. A forest, perhaps?
When I arrived at the main office, the door was locked. I expected as much, seeing as I had arrived around three in the morning. The school building, however, was open, so I decided to pass my time taking a little tour. I must have walked down every hallway in the place, but the only rooms that seemed of any interest to me were a small music room containing a piano, and a large gymnasium. The gym seemed to be dedicated to karate or some other contact sport, judging by the mats placed all over the floor. The school seemed all right, overall. But of course, that was before I met any of the students. . .
Satisfied with my long self-guided tour of the grounds, I wandered outside to a grassy area nearby a small pond and laid down underneath one of the trees. Most people might find it silly, but I actually prefer sleeping outdoors under the stars than in a warm bed. It feels more suitable to me, more proper, somehow. More so now than two years ago.
Then again, maybe I just feel that way because since then I've mostly been cooped up in white, starchy, perfectly sterile rooms. It does make quite an impression on you, I'll admit. Many people think of white as a pure, innocent, beautiful color. But to me that couldn't be further from the truth. White is a color of fake-ness, of hurt and deceit. When you're in extreme pain, all you can see is white. White is easily stained and corrupted, it's the weakest color there is. In fact...it's not even a color! It's the absence of color. . .it's totally soul-less and empty. Black is so much calmer and soothing than white. Black is so dark, it's untaintable......no color can cover it up. Black hides you when you need to hide, it covers you and doesn't hurt your eyes. Black is the union of all colors. Black is the hue of slumber. . .and endless sleep. It was somewhere along those thoughts that my eyelids drooped and I lost consciousness under the shade of the tree, as the sun's golden beams began to peek over the roof of the academy.
However, Robin talks about colors from an artistic point of view rather than a scientific one.
Chapter 1: Black and White
It wasn't exactly what most people would call a beautiful day. But personally, I think the weather was just perfect. Cold drizzly days are so. . .cozy, somehow. The sky seems to sink almost low enough to reach, and everything glistens with the rain. I smiled slightly as the light raindrops caressed my face. This wasn't the first time I had moved away... things became pretty much unbearable two years ago, and I've been constantly on the run ever since. But the time was slipping through my fingers like sand, and in fact it was probably the last time I would ever move. But I wasn't really afraid. . .No, in fact, sometimes I longed for what was coming. But I knew one thing for sure: I had to make use of what little time I had left.
The scent of cool rain relaxed me as I stepped up the cement stairs toward my new school and home. Step by step, the building came into my view as I cleared the stairs. The academy was surrounded by a fine silver mist, nearby a tall (and somewhat phallic) tower climbed into the dark sky. It made me wonder about the architect, and even more about the administrator. Further in the background, I saw a dark foggy hill, which was difficult to make out on account of the thundercloud hovering above it. A forest, perhaps?
When I arrived at the main office, the door was locked. I expected as much, seeing as I had arrived around three in the morning. The school building, however, was open, so I decided to pass my time taking a little tour. I must have walked down every hallway in the place, but the only rooms that seemed of any interest to me were a small music room containing a piano, and a large gymnasium. The gym seemed to be dedicated to karate or some other contact sport, judging by the mats placed all over the floor. The school seemed all right, overall. But of course, that was before I met any of the students. . .
Satisfied with my long self-guided tour of the grounds, I wandered outside to a grassy area nearby a small pond and laid down underneath one of the trees. Most people might find it silly, but I actually prefer sleeping outdoors under the stars than in a warm bed. It feels more suitable to me, more proper, somehow. More so now than two years ago.
Then again, maybe I just feel that way because since then I've mostly been cooped up in white, starchy, perfectly sterile rooms. It does make quite an impression on you, I'll admit. Many people think of white as a pure, innocent, beautiful color. But to me that couldn't be further from the truth. White is a color of fake-ness, of hurt and deceit. When you're in extreme pain, all you can see is white. White is easily stained and corrupted, it's the weakest color there is. In fact...it's not even a color! It's the absence of color. . .it's totally soul-less and empty. Black is so much calmer and soothing than white. Black is so dark, it's untaintable......no color can cover it up. Black hides you when you need to hide, it covers you and doesn't hurt your eyes. Black is the union of all colors. Black is the hue of slumber. . .and endless sleep. It was somewhere along those thoughts that my eyelids drooped and I lost consciousness under the shade of the tree, as the sun's golden beams began to peek over the roof of the academy.