Colour Your World

Bluegrass White

Laurel Mist

Willow Branch
Water Sprout

Palm Breeze
Pine Scent

I am trying to pick a grey-green for the spare bedroom. I am overwhelmed by choice.

Cascading Water
Lily Pond

Moss Mist 
Turtle Dove
 
Spring Hill
Minnesota Pines

I am impressed by the names, in a way. I imagine the effort that went into them was absurd and heroic.

Pastel Sage
Mountain Haze

Steeplechase
White Mantle

I suppose some clever geek could have devised an automatic name generator and simply churned them out. (Such a thing exists. I just asked it to randomly generate five names and I got: Boston Denim, Cloudy Winter, Cobalt Earth, Mountain Strawberry, and Riviera Rose. Who knows what they look like? Do strawberries even grow on mountains? What kind of person chooses Cloudy Winter?)

I prefer to picture liberal arts schlubs sitting around a table piled high with paint samples. Bandying about Victorian Spice and Creamy Persimmon and Peppermint Orange and Heritage Marshmallow.

It could be fun.

Hemlock Bud
Morning Blend

Or soul-sucking.

Mystical Sea

Or both.

Celery Ice

Part of my job involves naming things. But instead of colour, I work in staid software. Recently I collaborated on an application to allow customers to return products through a Web shop interface.

Me: What’s this … Customer Wish? What does that have to do with returns?

Product Manager: This is where the customer tells the vendor what they want.

Me: What do you mean?

PM: Like a replacement product, or a credit or refund.

Me: Well then. No. Customer Wish won't do. Sounds like the Amazon wish list. Besides, Customer Wish is too flimsy. Wishing is something you do on a star. Or blowing out candles. Returning a product and asking for your money back is too straightforward for that.

PM: Ok, how about Wished Processing?

Me: No. No wishing!

In the end I signed off on Requested Action, squelching whimsy in favour of something colder and more transactional.

Brown Ice
Frosty Beige
Frozen Concrete

Taupe Torpor