For years I've been obsessed with collecting colour palettes; from places I've been, to things I've eaten. Although I didn't actually know that's what I was doing at the time. Walking along a seafront, enjoying the way the sea, sky, grass and buildings all sit next to each other, or loving the marbled pinks in a rose petal all seemed insignificant. But it does all go in, and sits in your brain somewhere, then whether you realise it or not, they pop up to inform things like colours you choose for your walls, ribbon you match to wrapping paper, or colours for your next crochet project.
Beautiful colours make my soul want to burst with utter joy. I can happily hyperventilate over a copper and pink combo. You'll know I've been faffing with yarns and natural colour palettes for a good year now, but I've decided to trial a new approach. A full-on, Victorian collecting and categorisation of the colours of plants from my hood. For reference, but also just for the beauty of having them. And I LOVE it. I'm only a few weeks in, but there are already visions of a 'yarn year in colour', and it excites me much, much more than it should.
So, how do you work with colour? Using plants as an example is ideal, they've evolved to be striking and enticing: Find something that you love, and look at the balance of it. Is it mostly one shade with hints of others? A bluebell isn't blue - it has a lilac-blue base, with hints of dark plumb, and it's brightend up by the green that sits next to it. Altogether it makes a beautifully balanced colour combo.
Lie the colours you've chose next to each other, do they enhance one another or do they drag each other down? 'Try things on', chop and change things and see what makes something work and what doesn't. You'll invariably end up with go to palettes that you love, but it never hurts to shake up the mix once in a while.