When I bought my new window blinds I looked at colours and textures of potential blinds for about an hour. I ultimately chose the hue, permeability, quality, feeling, and nap that I and the salesperson felt were the best for my home. If you asked me today, though, I would simply tell you that I have white blinds.

All of the samples of materials for blinds that I looked at in that hour were variations on white, and there were over a hundred different white blind samples. You wouldn’t know that if you were to visit my home; you would only know that I had white blinds.

Today, as I opened my patio doors to enjoy the warm sunshine, I realized that I can see three different white blooms in the plants nearby. The gardens here are lush and well-tended, and as the year progresses I am delighted to realize that the plantings are so varied.

I took some pictures and began to wonder about the idea of white and its various manifestations. Is it a colour, or is it the absence of colour? I don’t know, but given that it appears in so many guises, I am of the opinion that white is, at the very least, influenced by colour. It may be the slightest wash, or the momentary touch of a watercolour brush, but there are differences. That, it seems to me, indicates the presence of colour.

That begs the question of whether there may be a form of white that has no other colour imprint. This azalea may be an example of a pure white, but I have yet to see it compared to something even more singularly white. So, for the time being, I’m going to declare this a pure white. Whether or not it is colourless is up for debate.