I’ve had black and white on the brain lately.
Everywhere I look, I see black and white together. Dark and light. Absorbing and reflecting. Hot and cold. Opposites. Contrasts.
Today, stopped at a stop light in the burbs of Pittsburgh, I saw a bald eagle. My first thoughts were, I must be wrong. What other kind of bird looks like that? Some sort of hawk? I may have misidentified it; but there it was — huge, flying out of the treetop, thirty feet above me. I got a good look: white head, black body, curved yellow beak, very large. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology tells me that it could be a turkey vulture, but I definitely saw a white feathered head. I’m sticking to my story.
I was marveling at the sight when twenty yards down the road came two black and white police cars racing to a somewhere scene, lights flaring, sirens blaring. Yes, that was more like the city — powerful, forceful, a place full of opposites — street lights illuminating the dark, sirens piercing the silence of the night, churches and rescue shelters — havens in the midst of desperate neighborhoods.
Black and white in design is a study of contrasts. The design blog Hongkiat.com calls black and white a “stark dichotomy,” which makes the design impossible to ignore. It is clean and simple, yet it can be complex as well. Black and white together have “…endless opportunities that other color schemes just don’t manage to generate. It all just balances itself out.” I especially like the word balance.
I love old black and white films, and black and white photography fills me with a longing that color just doesn’t satisfy. (See post 30. A Stillness in Time). Wikipedia says, “Since the advent of color, black-and-white mass media often connotes something nostalgic, historic or anachronistic.” Yes, that’s me — nostalgic, anachronistic, and yearning.
Black and white together — it is bold. Courageous. Balanced. Stunning. It takes a stand. Bald eagles, police cars, photography, design… and our new kitchen floor.
It is bold. I generally believe in hardwood floors or muted rugs. This stands out. It shouts out. I love it!
I have never been bold or courageous, though as I get older I discover I am gaining on them. Arguments still make me squeamish; heated discussions still often silence me; and I usually just want everyone to get along together. My walls are white, and my wardrobe consists of neutrals, though I occasionally wear an emerald scarf, a bright red sweater, a purple t-shirt. I have always admired boldness in others, while secretly thinking that bad things always happen to those who stand out or stand up.
In a world that needs boldness, I want to stand.
In a world that needs the saving grace and redemption of Jesus, I want to shout of His power to save.
No, the issues that are fracturing us are not black and white. But what we must all take to heart is His love; His redemption; His power. Written over both the black and the white is His love — written in His blood — written forever, no matter who we are, what we do, or how we dis-grace Him. His love covers us all, and it’s free.