Chartreuse is your grandmother.
Moving on, do we rid ourselves the reminders of a past life? Or do we merely obstruct them from view?
There are instinctive, intuitive ways we know about things. The “i will read about you” way is not the manual of a person by definition not intuitive, or “i will interact with you” way is more based on instinctual knowledge, or what is intuition.
The streams of thought sometimes come in wavelengths of colour. Another iris-capable deficiency? Maybe. I mean, most seriously likely it’s a rod-and-cone perception decline, than it is the allowing of light in your eyes.
In memories, taupe had been a good memory for a dear woman i knew. It was in her wardrobe, in her nails, and in the very shoes she loves to wear. Sometimes when we carry ourselves to the next life, we have nuances that we have left behind in people - whether they were directly sensed with the five human senses: sight, sound, scent, taste, touch - we allow ourselves to directly interact with the exacting of our very person to another’s receptive neurons on our skins that directly bring them to mind, and capably as in elected by capacity and will, we submit our senses to receiving someone.
Ergo, chartreuse had been a wonderful marked symbol of a life that had gone by - that was heavily directed by getting ahead of the curve, and making the most of your means - or else, it will be “careened” into someone else’s idea of what life is.
Chartreuse is the colour of love to me. It had looked upon me favourably over the years: from my dive suit, to my eco-shirts, daily university shorts, all my dive gear and swimsuits - it had been the colour of my life as a budding adult - going to the scuba diving, the first love of mine, and being just swimming with fishes, and the sea.
By technical definition, (via wikipedia : Chartreuse is a French liqueur made by the Carthusian Monks since 1737 according to the instructions set out in a manuscript given to them by François Annibal d'Estrées in 1605.) This appears in all my favourite cocktails, made at my favourite dives - initially found at the *Spiffy Dapper here in SG, and mixed well with dried citrus floating on top, both at the Tippling Club, Cufflink Club by all the seriously amazing barkeeps.
To me it’s that shade of that perspective-wrought green, that borders acid yellow, or intersects a key lime shade to make out a pleasant leafy construct in my mother’s pumpkin garden in the summer.
Buddingly, its fresh, worm-chewed, grasshopper-filled, & winding curled in hand-built trellises is as refreshing as it is lengthily and lazily bordered to latch on these definitive grape-vine leaves.