Pink light is a trick. It does not exist. It is a gap that our brains need to fill. This will make complete sense if you work at Flow Communications.
Even though I am still relatively green at this place, six weeks have shown me that fire in the belly, integrity of character, creativity and years of experience simply seep through everything (as reference, think Kate Turkington).
Pink is simply the light from both ends of the rainbow that our brains see as one colour, as explained in this MinutePhysics video. Remember, the colours of the rainbow are caused by the different wavelengths of visible light.
Do this: roll up a rainbow to make a colour wheel. Notice the gap between the red and violet light? This is the space where “the rest of the light in the universe is supposed to go. Radio waves, microwaves, infrared, gamma rays, ultraviolet rays … but since we can’t see any of those rays, we replace all of that hidden grandeur with pink.” It feels as if this is the perfect metaphor for finding an insight in the business of branding, developing a strategy, creating a relevant concept and executing it so that clients and consumers are moved – all within the hours allocated for these processes.
Pink could actually be called minus green, because it is just the leftovers of white light when you take out the green.
The word pink, or this “ungreen colour”, can also refer to one of the 300 species of the flower Dianthus, a flat-bottomed boat, a decorative eyelet in a garment, the action of stabbing or striking someone quickly, or red hunting outfits called hunting pink (the tailor’s surname was Pink, that’s why). Or my favourite meaning ... close your eyes and listen to the whimsy in these words from The New Shorter Oxford Dictionary: “A young salmon before it becomes a smolt. A one-year-samlet, a parr.”
Since I have started bending rainbows here at Flow, pink has been popping up everywhere. Every time, it presents itself with a bit of a jolt. As Flow strategist Kevin Collins says: “It’s the most synthetic colour; it always pumps up a big surprise. It is filled with incredulous sensuality like the pink bits in a sunset and cutting open a watermelon.”
See, there it is again: green on the outside, pink on the inside.
Kevin’s favourite pink is the pink of post-it notes. I want to agree: it propels me to do things even though nothing is written on them.
Melanie Feris, head of Flow's writing studio, remembers the white and silky pink crocheted Red Riding Hood cape from her childhood, and tells me that pink creeping roses remind her of Kimberley. “The brighter the pink, the happier my heart,” she says.
How can I then not give her this bright mug that was given to me in jest?
This might be a good time to admit that I have been ignoring – no detesting – this colour for years. It has suited me to think that pink represents the stereotype of being feminine (girls, women, grannies who are dressed in pink, manoeuvring the world to their whims and wiles). I might have been an anti-pink activist. The only time I strayed from this path was when I cooked pink pasta for my friend Jana’s 30th birthday bash.
I am starting to learn that it's not a colour to embrace, rather one to get lost in – as in a pink bamboo forest that arrests one to consider that which is other; as in the hidden grandeur of connecting with the rest of the light in our rainbow nation. Look at Dali and Rachel Tambo’s art piece, If You Go Down to the Woods Today, at the Johannesburg Botanical Garden in Emmarentia (below). It formed part of the JoziLandArt exhibition from 31 October to 2 November.
The aim of site-specific land art is to integrate nature and culture.
So, to the following colours: oink pink, magenta, cerise, fuchsia rose, fluorescent, flesh, flamingo, cotton candy, coral, china or carmine pink, blush, biscuit, Barbie and baby pink – "just give me a reason" to notice you. It might be written in the stars, as P!nk sings.
Flow writer Thrishni Subramoney got me to fall in love with the mantis shrimp, tiny creatures not usually housed by aquariums “because they tend to slaughter every other creature they share a tank with”. Where us humans have three colour-receptive cones in our eyes (green, red and blue) and butterflies have five, mantis shrimps have sixteen! Talk about a psychedelic technicolour dreamcoat. Shrimp cocktail, anyone?
Don’t get me started on Pink Floyd, Hello Kitty, pink tourmaline, the meaning of a pink aura, or when the earth’s shadow comes between the Gemini Sun and Sagittarius Moon to create a pink moon. Or vygies that bloom even when the earth is dry.
I have been caught unaware by this space between the ends of the rainbow. To all the Flowstars: thank you for the gaps, the glow, and the wavelengths.
