This Unbearable Whiteness of Being

Yep, I confess. I also ask for forgiveness: I’m white. To the core. Born that way. Reared in an unwashable region of the country’s blanco blandness.

I was painted, as a person, upon a white undercoat that revels in the whiteness of a canvass that badly needs a picture painted on it. I’ve come to accept that in too many cases, too much emphasis is placed on the whiteness and less on what it means to use that beginning to add colors, shades, layers, depths of colors to see how these blendings add so much more to the emptiness that begins the artistic adventure.

The world expects that any painting that seeks to depict its promises needs to incorporate the spectrum of colors and shades that make up the people, places, even locations of its grand wholeness. Which is pretty smart. The same works for us as private subjects. Our spaces, even the walls within which we live, are made all the better when we realize that from time to time others will look in and judge the condition of the shape and design of our decor -- down to the color on our walls.

Which is why we have to realize that, from time to time, the cover colors fade, the shine grows dull, scuffs and dings stand out -- and the time is right for a new, refreshing refurbishing. And it is at these times that it becomes clear that those who favor white bear much responsibility for recognizing that it is the whiteness that makes the need for enhancements all the more obvious.

Which is why we must accept that America needs a paint job. Just as importantly, it is clear that the responsibility of accepting this and in taking part in the refurbishing comes with being one who revels in the fact that our foundation is awfully white. Such is the burden that comes with the unbearable wonderfulness of the whiteness of our very being -- we can see when repairs and new painting adventures are necessary.

White is the blank slate of the world. Stepping up with ideas and suggestions for going to greatness from there opens an awareness as well of the diversity of techniques we have to grow bigger, to seek to paint a better masterpiece. The major whiteness of the canvas showcases what can happen if we decide to lay colors and textures colors and textures side by side, and dream of the blending of shades into combinations that results in a stark awareness of a rainbow of selections. 

America needs a new paint job but it also needs a broadening artistic readiness. The whiteness remains but we ought not fear the nesting of unusual combinations or pigmentations of shade, nor worry about bumping unusual tones and hues against each other. With the need to paint comes the possibility of an explosion of colors, perhaps even a strange comfort that comes with showing the world that we can live with the graffiti of the world on the walls that display our core whiteness.