I also like fuzzy black sweaters. And old, tight black t-shirts. Black shoes are definitely a must, as well.
But that is where it ends.
Don't get me wrong, black is fine. As far as colors go, however, it really isn't much of one. It's too safe, too overused. I find myself looking twice at purple. And green. Occasionally I feel bold and resonate with shades of yellow, orange, or red, but mostly I am drawn to cool colors. Unless those shades are the bland tones overly blended into watery images by Claude Monet. Or Degas.
I like bite. If everything is smooth and creamy and coated in sugary goodness, I am not moved.
Violent beauty. Pungent taste. I like things I have to think about. I like Van Gogh:
Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) The Poplars at Saint-Rémy, 1889
And Pissarro:
Camille Pissarro (French, 1830-1903) Peasant Woman Pushing a Wheelbarrow, 1874
And Cézanne:
Paul Cezanne (French, 1839-1906) Pastoral (aka Idyll), 1870
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