bay street on a weekday: what a waste of a cone!

Eyes are able to see colour via the process of perception. Specifically, it is the 'cones' in our eyes which allow us to see colours; all combinations of colour despite the fact that these cones are only sensitive to reds, greens and blues. If our eyes were without these cones, all persons, places and things would appear either numbingly white or blindingly black. Being a psychology major, I understand I am simplifying this process to intangible shame. The founders of colour perception, Descartes and Professor Gregory, would be visibly upset, but for the sake of blogging I shall honour simplicity over the intricate.

Since securing my latest homely cubbyhole amidst the omnipresent condo and office buildings on Bay street, I have seriously entertained the notion that the number of my cones has drastically decreased-- or vanished altogether.

Bay street on a weekday morning reminds me of the movie Pleasantville, starring Reece Witherspoon and Tobey Maquire, which starts off in black and white colour. As the movie's plot unravels, characters who become visibly 'colourful' are those who have unleashed their inner creativity and individuality. Ultimately, those who are colourful-- succeed. Yet on Bay street, unlike Pleasantville, seeing black and white and being seen in black and white is not only perceived as the expectation, but the ultimate success. People who work 'important' jobs at 'important' office buildings wear 'important' clothes: primarily, blacks on bottom and whites on top. Pair these important wardrobes with an 'important' black trench coat and an 'important' black briefcase (or one of those 'important' thin black cell phones) and voila - you epitomize success!

Or do you?

I am puzzled by this somewhat backward evolution of only black and white colour symbolizing success. Did we not successfully transcend our monochromatic ways with colour televisions and colour photographs? What about our all-too-'important' cell phones and blackberries, which are now only available in colour? Even our language, figuratively speaking, has become more colourful. Blending one's self into a society that prides itself on both it's black and white wardrobe and it's individual-oriented focus seems rather ironic. Reece Witherspoon's and Tobey Maquire's characters would surely be disappointed.

During last week's morning walk into work, my eyes' cones were abruptly shaken to activity. I saw purple! Not white, not black, but purple! And this purple was not a magenta or a burgundy, but a vibrant, bright, alive purple! The purple was seeping off a particular woman's scarf as she made her way up the concrete steps to her Bay street office building. Everything else about this woman's wardrobe fit in with typical Bay street attire; everything that is, except for her colour- saturated scarf. This unexpected splash of colour made me stand still and smile. I can only imagine what my fellow Bay street commuters must have thought, "why is this woman smiling to herself on a grueling workweek morning? Certainly she must not be right in the head". Little did they know, my head felt more 'right' on this morning than it had in the last month: I saw colour on Bay street! My cones were alive!

As was to be expected, my cone activity was short-lived. The purple-scarfed woman disappeared behind a black revolving door and I bumped into a black trenched figure.

I have since altered my route to and from work in an effort to feed my cones with colourful nourishment. My time spent on Bay street is now strictly limited to crossing the street and not a monochromatic step more.