Exploring Color Symbolism in My Latest Abstract Paintings
In his latest abstract paintings, Ritu Raj explores how color becomes a vessel of emotion, memory, and presence — a language beyond words or representation.
Kaleidoscope, 4ft x 3ft, Playful Abstraction, 2023
Color has always been more than visual language for me. It is an emotional current, a sensory pulse, a bridge between the seen and the felt. In my latest series of abstract paintings, I have found myself deepening my relationship with color — not as an aesthetic choice alone, but as a vessel of meaning, memory, and transformation.
I’ve often said that color is not decoration, but resonance. It holds weight, carries emotion, and moves across the surface like breath or rhythm. In these recent works, certain colors have begun to emerge not just as elements of composition, but as symbolic presences — each holding its own energy, its own voice.
Red, for example, has returned in bold, saturated fields, signaling vitality, courage, and sometimes the rawness of vulnerability. It pulses at the edges of forms, not as a shout, but as a steady, grounding force. Red, for me, has become the heartbeat of these works — reminding me, and perhaps the viewer, of life’s urgency and passion.
In contrast, deep cobalt blues and layered grays have begun to appear as spaces of contemplation, stillness, and reflection. These colors do not demand attention; they invite it gently. They create space to breathe, to pause, to dwell in ambiguity. In these quieter tones, I see echoes of solitude, the necessary silence that allows new forms and feelings to emerge.
Golds and luminous yellows have surfaced in unexpected ways — not as dominance, but as glimmers of warmth, optimism, and joy. They thread through layers of texture, catching light, suggesting hope even in dense or shadowed spaces. They remind me that even in uncertainty, there is always room for radiance.
These color choices are not premeditated. They arise through the process — through improvisation, curiosity, and the dialogue between my inner world and the materials at hand. Yet when I step back, I see that color becomes a kind of map of the emotional terrain I’m navigating, both personally and collectively.
For viewers, I hope these colors speak in their own ways. Abstract art invites this multiplicity — where a red might feel like urgency to one person and grounding to another. The symbolism of color is not fixed. It is alive, open to interpretation, shaped by the viewer’s own memories, associations, and emotional landscapes.
That is the beauty of working in abstraction. The colors do not explain. They evoke. They invite feeling before understanding. They become a mirror for the internal, offering space for reflection, resonance, and presence.
In these latest paintings, color has become not just a part of the composition, but the very language of the work — holding space for what words cannot contain.
