...actually, it isn't. When it comes to most things pink, at best I am indifferent towards the color and at worst I somewhat despise it - except when it comes to roses. Pink roses hold a certain mystique; the customary but seductive deep crimson petals versus the softened, delicately lighter shades have always reminded me of the beauty of innocence, and of yearning to be something more. I remember once as a teenager admiring an array of roses in a neighbor's garden. Robust reds intermingled with pastel pinks, and I found myself wondering if the pink roses felt understated and overlooked, paled beneath the vibrant red radiance. Did they realize how beautiful they were? Did they recognize their own inherent brilliance? Did they know that I was there, drinking in and appreciating their light? Did they know how they moved me so?
Music also moves me. Sometimes I'm moved by the notes and the ways the harmonies and melodies wrap over and through themselves. Sometimes it's the lyrics, either in part or in whole. Certain songs trigger certain memories, and with the memories come the emotions. Some songs are linked to solitary occasions and others, to a span of time or a phase. Often, I'll first connect to a song because it's just that - a good song that I musically appreciate. Then much later after life has again molded me into a different shape, I'll form a deeper connection to the same song, its lyrics now speaking to my personal inner being.
Aerosmith's "Pink" is such a song. I've always liked Aerosmith, with Steven Tyler's emotional and simultaneously gravelly yet smooth voice, intricate guitar licks, and lyrics infused with not-so-subtle sexual references. I loved "Pink" immediately for all of the aforementioned reasons. It's a sensual song, and I loved the clever juxtaposition of mature sexual innuendo such as "Pink as the sheets that we lay on" and "Pink as the bing on your cherry" with child play like "Pink is my favorite crayon" and "Pink gets me high as a kite." The pairing was too taboo not to like, if you didn't get too lost in the silky, laid back melody to even notice the genius of the lyrics.
"Pink" was released in early 1998, which was around the same time that Frank and I started trying to conceive. Then, it was just a sexy song that made me want to slink around seductively and start stripping. Not really, but I did always crank the volume a few notches higher and start screech-crooning a la Tyler.
A couple of years later, the song had fallen into the realm of Songs Only Heard Once in a Blue Moon and I was still searching for pink on a pregnancy test. I was oppressed by the weight of waiting and the increasing anxiety over my teenage sister's impending delivery. One evening as I was driving home from work while lost deep in morose thought, on the radio I heard the opening riffs of "Pink." It had been a long while since I'd heard the song and it only took a few notes to break through my fog. I smiled, turned up the volume, and began to sing along to the familiar lyrics. Then the pink rose came to mind, the one that had been given to me for Mother's Day a couple of weeks earlier: "I know you're not a mother yet,but..." said my father as he passed me the flower. Then I stopped singing mid-verse, slack-jawed and struck silent by these lyrics: And I think everything is going to be alright. And that's when "Pink" became more than just a feel-good song.
In this blogosphere we read and feel each other's joys and pains. When people can't hope for themselves, we try to have hope for them, even if we feel that all hope is lost on our own situations. No matter how we express it, what I think we feel but do not often say about hope is this: we hope will have the strength to live through whatever is handed to us, and that come what may, we will be alright.
How many pink roses do you know? How many times have you wanted to let them know that they are appreciated and that you find them and their words beautiful? How many times have you wanted to lift someone up and said a silent prayer that she or he would be able to heal? How many times have you felt a fellow blogger's isolation and wanted reach out to let them know they weren't alone? Here's your chance. Give the Pink Rose Award to those who inspire you or need to be inspired, to those who have encouraged you or those who need encouragement.
Here's what to do:
1. On your blog, copy and paste the award, these rules, a link back to the person who selected you, and a link to this post: http://smartone.typepad.com/smartone/2008/05/pink-is-my-favo.html. You will find the story behind the Pink Rose Award and other graphics to choose from there.
2. Select as many award recipients as you would like, link to their blogs (if they have one), and explain why you have chosen them.
3. Let them know that you have selected them for an award by commenting on one of their posts.
4. If you are selected, pass it on by giving the Pink Rose Award to others.
5. If you find that someone you want to nominate has already been selected by someone else, you can still honor them by posting a comment on their award post stating your reasons for wishing to grant them the award.
6. You do not have to wait until someone nominates you to nominate someone else.
To me, in and of itself pink is a color I can easily overlook. But a pink rose, especially masses of them, stun me with their beauty. 'Cause pink is the love you discover...
An extra special thanks to fellow surrogate Corilynn for designing the graphics!
