It rained.
I saw a rainbow.
I saw colors.
Black. Is the absence of light.
Looks like a DSLR and some Photoshop know-how won’t do the trick. I said to myself months ago.
I took up photography as an elective subject. Excited and armed with my new DSLR and some photo-editing skills, I was a little bit disappointed when we were told that we will be doing the basics of black and white photography.
Finally! I exclaimed. The enlargements are done. Goodbye contact prints! Goodbye fixer! Goodbye apron!
I heaved a sigh of relief when I printed ‘perfectly’ the last 8 x 12 photo in my list. ‘Perfectly’, meaning no dust particle visible, not washed out, not burned out.
I will miss you. I will remember your kindness. Your silence. Your darkness. I whispered to my workstation and fixed my things. Unexpectedly, I felt a tinge of sadness crawl up into my system.
The darkroom has been my sanctuary for the last couple of months.
White. Is the presence of all colors.
Shit.
The room was suddenly filled with bright light. I cringed. With my eyes still closed, a voice boomed across the enclosed air-conditioned space.
Next meeting we will be ‘Singin’ In The Rain.’
A multitude of ‘yes’ and whistles enveloped the air. People were clapping, fists pumping into the air. Some were even dancing in their seats.
I smiled when I saw everyone’s reaction. It was funny and cute. Hearing our professor’s pronouncement after three consecutive meetings of black and white silent movies each one lasting about two to three hours was like an oasis to the desert.
Finally. I will experience sound and colors. I muttered.
Then, it dawned on me.
Colors. Sound. People say they make the world more beautiful. More lively.
Yet, they can also create ‘chaos’. Confusion and noise. The cynic in me said.
I never really liked the ‘chaos’ that colors bring. A mix and match of what-nots. An experimentation of this and that. An explosion of hues. Too complex, I say.
I wasn’t really into them because, I like everything simple.
No gray areas. No tiptoeing between this thing and that thing. No gradient.
Likewise with noise. It is never acceptable to me. Noise brings about misunderstandings. Anarchy. Chaos.
But, ambient sound is divine.
That’s why I just like black and white. And silence.
Not complications.
‘Ouch’. I screamed silently. Someone stepped on my foot. ‘Thank you.’
Silently screamed.
An oxymoron? Or an alliteration? What the fuck.
Apparently, I was driven out of the room without me knowing it.
Prism. A medium that disperses light.
A penny for your thoughts? A voice from behind said.
Familiar with it, I answered. Yeah. The perks of being a film student.
Told ya to shift courses.
I turned and looked at the person. And the person casually draped her arm around my shoulders and gave me a peck on the cheek.
Stop.
Stop what? My retort.
Hi, Den.
Hi, Ly.
I was just joking about you dropping your major.
I know. I smiled, kissing Aly back.
Denden…stop thinking too much. Aly said, smiling.
Color. That which is produced when light passes through a prism.
Alyssa Valdez. The force I have to deal with in my life. The force I chose to deal with in my life. She’s not the perfect I pictured in my head when I was younger. She’s actually far from it. She is but everything I hoped for.
She’s loud, I’m not.
She speaks her mind, I keep things to myself.
She likes to party to relax, I read books to unwind.
She’s carefree, I’m focused.
She’s laid back, I’m stiff.
She’s adventurous, I’m little miss goody two shoes.
She likes to cook, I don’t.
She likes the color orange, I like blue.
She is the ‘voila’ while I am the ‘ah…ok.’
She is…a kaleidoscope of colors.
The color wheel. An illustrative representation which tells the relationship between colors; which one is best for the other.
Aly and Den.
Den and Aly.
Black and white.
White and black.
We have nothing in common.
We are opposites.
We are in contrast with each other.
Yet we bring out the best in each other, too.
AlyDen.
We are blue and orange.
We complement each other.
Ok, I’ll stop. So, where are we off to? I’m starving. I said to Aly.
Rainbow. A visual representation of colors. Usually seen outdoors after the rain.
It rained.
I saw a rainbow.
I saw colors.
And people say that at the end the rainbow, you’ll find a pot of gold.
I don’t know about the pot of gold.
But, I, Dennise Michelle Lazaro, who lives in my black and white world, sure found ‘colors’ at the end of it.
And her name is Alyssa Caymo Valdez.
