Scarlet Red

I first used the color scarlet in a painting in New Mexico. I’d always been reluctant to use any red as a landscape color because I thought I’d never actually seen it in nature. My artist’s life was based in the Pacific Northwest—ever green—where comforting and languid blue-greens and analogous hues overwhelmed the seasons. As close as I ever came to red was burnt sienna—a neutral, earthy almost-orange. Sure, I occasionally dropped in a bit of Opera (hot pink)—but only for exuberant rhododendrons in spring, or bright candy in a gum-ball machine.

Then I moved to New Mexico.

Ghost Ranch Red Rocks, Jan Hart, 2005

Suddenly, simmering reds glowed like embers in rock crevices. Washed upon the shaded side of the bloodshot rocks blazed countless scarlet exclamations, only visible to the eyes of those who were tempted to be hypnotized—like when one is drawn to the flames in a fire.

No more denial. Red was alive and thriving in northern New Mexico. Here was a land carved through a volcanic rift between the Colorado Plateau and the High Plains as a zone of red rock beds composed mostly of sedimentary sandstones and shales stained in every shade of red. 

Ghost Ranch Splendor, JH 2004

The real magic was in the interaction with sunlight; each sun ray could strike a hard red rock surface and bounce, carrying with it both color and light energy. Each bounce further charged it so that it was possible to see the glowing scarlet red embers in each shaded overhang or crevice. With over 325 sunshine filled days, there were plenty of opportunities to witness the magical phenomenon of reflected light and color. Red tinted light rebounded all over northern New Mexico. One time, walking up into Echo Amphitheater, the partially shaded sloped sandstone walls appeared to glow. Astounded, I wondered if the very air I was breathing was also red tinted – and what other mystic qualities I breathed beyond the hue.

As I became more obsessed with the phenomenon of reflected light and color, I even placed a bumper sticker on my car that read:  I Brake for Reflected Light. I always smiled when someone passed me on the highway and looked me over – my sticker might as well have stated I was stark raving mad. 

In my New Mexico days, and after them, I ordered Perinone Scarlet, Scarlet Lake, and Vermillion Red. Ached until the precious tubes arrived. And then I used them. Gone was any fear of using red – pure red – straight out of the tube. The redder the better.

It was no surprise that the color showed up in a dream vision several years later. While hospitalized for a staph infection in my spine in 1997, an entity who called himself Raphael spoke to me while surrounded entirely by brilliant scarlet (and a bit of emerald green).  After six weeks of hospitalization and time at home to rest, I made my way out to my studio to see if I could paint.

The Raphael paintings

Raphael 2, jh 1997

For the Raphael paintings I painted wet into wet (wet paint onto wet paper), a technique I rarely used this freely. But it seemed just right during this time when my brush felt like it was almost being directed in a way both unfamiliar and deeply familiar. The paintings came directly from my consciousness; swirls and shades of deep scarlet. I watched as the paints moved against each other and merged together.

I definitely was in a place of less control with these paintings. I was in another world.

Way past New Mexico, Scarlet Red remained tucked into my heart. It had become my favorite color – for painting as well as wearing.  I could almost feel my connection to something greater whenever my brush dipped into Peritonea Scarlet.  It showed me the way forward and eventually to Costa Rica.

In 2008, I was on the last day of a tour to see about the possibility of moving to Costa Rica.  

From A Woman Awakens: Life, AfterLife, page 60

Even though we were driving, I caught a glimpse of a glass-encased statue of San Rafael stationed over the door of the white church. Portrayed in flowing garments in the colors of faded scarlet and pale green-blue, he held a line with a fish on it in one hand. His hair was wavy and blonde. My heart skipped another beat.

I did not ask the tour guide realtors to stop, nor did I share any of my thoughts or incredulity with them, but I felt the subtle pin pricks of excitement along my arms.

The road wound up the mountainside through a couple of switchbacks. Just as the car lurched onto the steepest part of the bumpy road I looked ahead and saw a house painted bright scarlet red and softer emerald green.

Very calmly I asked if the house ahead was the one they were going to show me.

When they answered, 'yes', I stopped breathing. In my mind I was asking myself if this was really happening. How could this be? The colors. The exact colors.

Soon after my move to Costa Rica I noticed the color again at an ExPat gathering. It was the shirt- color worn by a gentle Canadian man named Frank. Two years later we married – and of course both of us wore shades of red. 

Published in 2017. For more information

Frank was my soul mate and the great love of my life. Still one of my favorite memories is seeing him dramatically mimic these words from the actor, Chiwetel Ejiofor, who played the title role in a favorite movie of his, and then mine. Kinky Boots, 2005:

“Burgundy. Please, God, tell me I have not inspired something burgundy. Red. Red. *Red*! Is the color of sex! Burgundy is the color of hot water bottles! Red is the color of sex and fear and danger and signs that say, Do. Not. Enter. All my favorite things in life.”