Black & White

What is it about black and white that makes it so appealing? The absence of all colors and the sum of all colors, two extremes. Is it the clarity? You can’t argue with something that is black and white; you can’t squabble about it or dispute it if gray areas do not exist. With a click on the computer or the choice of a pen, we can write in any color of the rainbow, still, black on white strikes me as the best choice for getting ideas across and for communicating clearly. Visually it is a dramatic combination that is stark in its beauty and simplicity and yet does not shun other colors to join in. It’s difficult to resist the temptation of using it…I admit to succumbing frequently.  Even in the garden.

And so, I introduce my garden chairs--they looked bad. The Before:

All right, “bad” was an understatement; this is heavy duty recycling. The After:

Phew! Just love that black and white paint. The local carpenter cut mdf boards to replace the disintegrated plastic backs and seats. As no kids were around at the time, I got to do all the spatter painting myself…the kids are so envious.

Because our roof is flat and made of cement, it requires treatment every two or three years and so over the years a number of plastic buckets accumulated from said treatment, which I planted about ten years ago. When I began doing mosaic plant containers, I hoped to get rid of the buckets (plastic: how un-green, how un-ecological), but, upon closer inspection they proved to be holding up well, much better than the buckets in which the roof products are now sold. Black and white paint to the rescue…The Before:

Of course, the smaller paint bucket asked to be included as well. The After:

Here they are lined up on a curb that will someday be mosaicked… someday.

That's the ol’ throw-the-paint-at-the-bucket treatment in which young visitors participated (hard to calm them down after that activity). Notice the tall spindly-looking succulent behind the bucket with circles?  It's a cousin to the "Mother of millions" succulent and drops its offspring from the tips of its leaves everywhere. More importantly, however, it puts on a winter show of flowers from the end of December to the end of February that is spectacular. Consequently, I overlook its scraggly appearance.

Yes, that's January in Tunisia.