I tried to dye the perfect red today.

Nothing so bold as these summer dahlias.  I was looking for something softer, warmer, a color you would relish in the monochrome of  winter. A pulsing red: alive and inviting.

I dyed all sorts of iterations of red but I could not replicate the one I wanted.  The color in my brain would not show up on the yarn.   

Sometimes in dyeing you settle for a color that is close, after all different colors speak to different people.  

But other times you keep trying for a color that you absolutely love, that you can't take your eyes off.

 A color that moves you.  

A navy blue, deep and dark as the ocean at midnight, tugging at you.  You keep searching until you find colors that make your heart flutter.  At least a little.

Today I tried and tried for that match.  I stumbled upon colors that I liked, that were close, but nothing that was quite right.  

And now the day is ending, I am tired.  I'm done.

I am allowing myself to stop and switch gears, recognizing fatigue and the need to do something different.  I know that hours and hours of banging my head against the wall isn't going to get me where I want to be.  

It's time to pause, regroup, step back. Approach it again on another day.

And for once that is what I'm doing.  

Stopping, unsuccessful, but stopping none the less.

I have faith that I will find that perfect red: soft, hopeful but strong and determined.  

Just not today.