Black and white mean grief in other cultures--just because Western culture demands we deck ourselves in black when we mourn doesn't mean the world does. And, since I belong more to the world then the stupid American pop-culture--I won't dignify it by simply calling it culture--I wear both to signify death.
Wine red, for the fruits of my life that I will never see, for the wine I will never drink to celebrate my marriage, my children, my grandchildren... I will live a brief life, never knowing the fruits of my labors.
Blood red for the blood I have spilled and will spill in this lifetime; both my own blood and others.
Hunter green for the forests that call to me, wishing for me to hunt in them and reside, making my home where I feel at home.
And midnight blue for the night sky that I look up to, and wish I could fly away into.
They never understood.
