When I was small, I remember wondering if people see colors the same way. Do you see blue like I see purple? Is your mustard my marigold? Why are you wearing neon green when it is so clearly a distracting and heinous hue? Furthermore, what does the world look like through colorblind eyes? In a year in which color is such a politically provocative and empowering idea, I wanted to reflect a bit on how it inspires me.

I won't delve into color theory, as there are many designers speaking on the subject who are far more knowledgeable and eloquent than me. And honestly, I'm most often more attracted to a lack of color than vibrant ones — I'm in constant search of the perfect shade of grey (I just can't get enough charcoals and slates and taupes) — so I'm certainly no expert in the ways of color. But every so often, I'll see a combination of colors that just knock my socks off, and it's rarely the overtly bold and bright colors, but the unexpected, the clashing, the subtle.

One of my favorite artists is Mark Rothko, whose highly abstract use of color evokes emotions and energies that transcend the color themselves. "The people who weep before my pictures," he has said, "are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you say you are moved only by their color relationship, then you miss the point." For him, the relationships between colors and the emotions they evoke make for a spiritual experience, and I can't disagree. Standing in front of a Rothko in a museum, it feels a bit disrespectful to do anything but stare in stunned silence.

In contrast, Gerhardt Richter, Ellsworth Kelly, and other minimalist artists often used the idea of a commercial color chart or paint color chips and subvert them to show the purely visual, objective, and consumerist nature of color. This idea of randomness, of found color, can be very inspirational. I recently received a Color Accordion as a gift, and flipping through the deck makes this monochromatic-loving gal want to add some color to her life. Check out the paint section of your local hardware store (which I've been to a few times lately... 50 shades of white... how do I choose?), and see if you're not inspired by the rainbow of hues and subtle fades.

But most of all, I like to see color through a camera lens, because sometimes photographs can show beauty that we don't notice in our hustle and bustle lifestyles. With a full memory card and a handy Photoshop eyedropper tool, it's amazing what hidden color ways you can find, even in the most mundane of scenes. It's instant color inspiration for art, design, and spicing up the digs. Furthermore, it can be applied conceptually — how relevant would it be to apply a color way from a photograph of a Japanese fish market to a website for a new sushi restaurant in Lakeview? Sure it's a stretch, and no one but you will know the inspiration, but it's a good way to step outside your usual go-to schemes.

Nowadays I've come to the conclusion that we don't all see colors in the same way, although I can't say whether it comes down to matters of taste or perception. But it's clear that colors have the power to evoke emotion. Our marketing manager tells me that in 2009, the 'new black' will be yellow, a color representing hope, sunshine, and warmth. It's a happy thought, one that will support the big changes we hope to see in the year to come. And, thankfully, yellow looks great with grey.