I see a colouring book.
Some pages have already been filled in, with varying styles of colouring. Some children have stated within the lines, others have not. Every page in the book is different from the others.
There is a picture of a crow, resting on a perch. Using only black, it has been coloured meticulously, the artist careful to ensure they remain within the lines. Every aspect of the picture has been looked over, following the rules of monochromatic colouring to a tee.
A meticulous attention to detail is required to follow the process of diagnosis for medical professionals like Dr. Death. Each part of the patient’s body must be carefully looked over and observed. But the artist colours with black, for as much as they seek to stave off death, they are in the business of mortality. And death is the only constant in their field.
A second picture shows a genie’s bottle, contained within a heart. It has been coloured using the lines more as a general guide. Shedding the rules of colouring, with colours that clash being splayed together and no theme formulating the order of where they hit the page. It looks as if it has been coloured with carelessness and wish-filled dreaming.
This is the image of Aarman Fidel’s Eden, the kind of colouring that throws off the rules. But everything comes at a price, as shown by a small trickle of blood smeared on the page, suggesting this child suffered a paper cut. But when the heart is the matter of desire, much more more than a simple papercut will be demanded.
More creative minds ignore the lines entirely. Their art does not conform to the nature of this world. The image of the Little Eagle has been coloured to create its own bizarre artwork, playing with the eagle in such a way to manipulate it into a new piece of art entirely.
To understand a creative mind like Redgrave by the book is impossible, one must colour outside the lines. For they are unrestrained by conformity, unbound by the limits of society. They play not by the rules you do. The Little Eagle found that out the hard way with the gifting of a certain box.
I colour in a way unlike any other. I cannot colour within the lines, for I do not perceive them like you. I cannot conform to the regular colours of this world, because my eyes are not deceived by their hues.
It is my book, and I colour it by feel.
I feel the ridges of the paper, the creases and the folds. They direct my hands. My art cuts through the black-inked design of conformity and unlocks a whole new potential.
I can teach the meticulous to release their inner creativity. I can lead those that ignore the lines to hone their skills into something more positive than destruction, and I can show those who colour by unconformity to avoid paper cuts.
You simply must embrace my way, close your eyes and open your mind.
Then you will colour like I do.