#1

I began the search for Brown in the Egyptian art wing. This relief is not brown, per se, but the bronze evokes the same warmth--not the burning warmth of red or yellow--but the warmth of fullness.

#2

the brown in each of these twin frames is limited to the woman's hair (and was perhaps mixed with white to make the mountains in the painting on the left) and added in small amounts to her skin to further identify her as Middle Eastern.

the muted blue complements the brown. these two colours work well in concert. they anchor each other. each raises the stakes.

#3

again, we see blue helping out brown. not only do the ribbon and the interior of the hat set of the hair, but they enliven the woman's coast.

#4

in between the museum and home, i stumbled upon this brown-bathed brush touching up the outside of a building.

#5

this is one way brown happens. brown in process. the process of brown. brown in the making. making brown. one way that happens.

#6

i'm accustomed to seeing these newspaper bins in either blue or yellow. the smooth evenness of this one was appealing.

#7

Baltimore makes sense to me, the logic of its streets, the accessible nature of its historical importance. I can imagine my neighborhood a hundred years ago, fifty years ago, as easily as parting the slats of my blinds and looking down on my street, and seeing sepia toned ghosts of women and men walking arm in arm to the steps of their mock brownstones, before the wave of converted apartments took hold, and these architectural beauties were each homes, whole entities of dwelling. I used to live on North Calvert Street, one of what I call the “Power Three,” that includes St. Paul and Charles.

They run parallel to each other, with Calvert and Charles being northbound and St. Paul southbound. If you are on one of these streets, you can navigate your way to anyplace else in the city.

I was not born here. I was born in the political hot seat of the country, an hour south of here, but it has never been in my DNA like Baltimore is. Maybe it is that Baltimore chose me as much as I chose it. Who can account for the ownership we feel toward certain people and places and not others? I am the best version of myself suspended above the din of the sirens, panhandlers, bars, and corner transactions, but close enough to insist on myself in this mottled landscape. I love the yearning that assaults this city because it mirrors my own tumult back to me and makes me feel that I am not crazy because I want so much. It is a softer version of city, giving off all the intuitive vibrations of acceptance, a sensual kiss on the mouth, uncomplicated coffee, unassuming hipness, the hopes of the bluecollar to become middle class, art movements, and the pulling up of our selves by the bootstraps.

#8

here, brown is used to emphasize the waning autumn season and the general despair of this couple. there is a growing, palpable separation. the peace is called something like Waning Honeymoon.

#9

I chose this painting because of the amount of brown and the richness with which the subject's complexion is conveyed.

#10

Brown, here, is dullness, the end of options. It is the absence of colour. There is no lush depth, just a pallid tan.

#11

Brown creates cohesion and movement. This room, in totality, is minimalist but full.

#12

repetition of blue and brown. this combination suggests wealth. the blue is more of an accent than an equal player.

# 13

One of the first pieces I photographed. The brown stone highlights the austere majesty of the figure.