I’ve always been attuned to the affect of colour on my mood. My keen interest in colour therapy as a teenager suggests as much. But then again, what wasn’t I curious about at that age? Unlike the teenage stereotype, I had a penchant for spiritual discovery, religious research and an acute interest in alternative healing; I spent a lot of my time in my bedroom – which was mostly white, black and nude.

At the beginning of my studies I dared not associate myself with what I considered to be the frivolity of colour, but the more that I learnt about different faiths, the more I discovered each one’s relationship with colour; I found myself starting to intentionally introduce colour into my world.  

As a conscious teen (today’s equivalent of ‘woke’), I once spotted a badge of the Pan African flag – a horizontal triband of red, green and black – which represented the struggle and liberation of African people. Red representing the bloodshed, black representing our race and green representing the luxuriant vegetation of our continent. I read about colour symbolism in Buddhist art and, in praying to my ancestors, my mother taught me which colour candle to use for what and when. I also came to understand the significance of the colours used by my clan to decorate the rondavels at our family homestead, kwa Ndaba.