What color is your favorite poem?

painting by Donna Frasca

I recently had a post on “How Do You Know When The Color Is Right” and one of the comments I received got me thinking.  Let me show you the post then I'll tell you more on what idea came across my mind. Here it is:

“ It's no question that colors have an influence of our mood and perception. As being synesthete I live a life in colors. Synesthesia means that I see colors when I see words and numbers.I transform this in paintings of names and birthdays.”


First of all, I had to look up to see what  “Synesthesia” was. Wow - words and numbers seen as colors? How cool is that? Or is it?


I've heard from many Designers, myself included, that we can't spend the day without seeing color schemes in everything we do from reading magazines to watching the President speak on TV. Is this a curse or a blessing? To me, it's hands down a blessing! What a way to spend the day surrounded by color, unless it's sensory overload which perhaps a person with Synesthesia has. I would like to spend just one day behind the eyes of such a person just to see what it is like and to see what words look like in color, which brings me to my idea.


If I were to read a poem, what color would it be? So here is goes. I'm going to write my favorite poem then post below each line, what color comes to my mind. See if you see the same!

The Road Not Taken

by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

(a warm woodsy yellow and bark brown)

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

(depressed to be alone)

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

(the new green of grass)

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

(comforting, warm, yet serene)

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

(the shades of grass)

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

(the earthy color of leaves)

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

(the colors of age)

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

(happiness, victory)