Bold

This afternoon I felt the first warm sun of spring on my face. When I closed my eyes the glow was coral red.

Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning.

Favourite lipsticks: orange red for day, berry red for night.

Indian red is on my palette because it’s awkward and dirty and seems to resist being red.

Beware cleaning your mooncup in the shower, it looks like the famous Psycho scene, in full colour.

My daughter’s lips are chapped red in winter.

At university my lecturers used the term ‘red mist’ for when they’d seen too many paintings. Now I associate it with rage.

I have a red cherry spot on my left cheek.

The last car I drove contentedly was a red Ford C-Max.

At university the head of our Painting course wrote CUNT on her canvas in capitals and in red. We travelled to Old Street to see it especially.

A friend bought me a pillar box red shirt for my 26th birthday. I wear it when I want to feel lucky, or bold.

My sister and son have red hair. My son’s has faded to a copper brown. He is happy with this shift, but I can’t help feeling a loss.

Mum’s dressing gown: dark wine red.

If I pinch you, you may experience localised redness.

I kept a red knitted jumper I bought at a secondhand shop for my daughter when she was 2. Both my sons wore it in succession.

A red raincoat can never be anything else for me since seeing the last scene in Don’t Look Now.

My home team, the Cherries, wear red and black stripes.

Lowry used vermilion red for all his paintings.

Red sky at night, shepherds delight.