Why You Choose Red When You're Angry (And What It Means When You Don't)
- Katie Helldoerfer
- 4 days ago
- 5 min read
Understanding the Hidden Language of Color in Your Art and Emotions
Have you ever noticed that when you're furious, you reach for red markers or paint? Or maybe you're the person who grabs blue when everyone else would choose something fiery? The colors we choose when creating art - whether we're painting, doodling, or working through emotions in therapy - aren't random. They're a language, speaking directly from parts of ourselves we might not even know are trying to communicate.
What Jungian Picture Interpretation Teaches Us About Color
I've been studying Theodor Abt's Introduction to Picture Interpretation According to C.G. Jung, and what strikes me most is how his framework offers both structure AND freedom. There's a collective symbolism - patterns that humans across cultures have recognized for millennia - but how those symbols show up in YOUR art is entirely personal.
This mirrors what I see in Internal Family Systems therapy: parts of us use symbols (including colors) to communicate when words aren't enough. And different parts might have completely different color languages.
The Ancient Wisdom of Red
Red is perhaps the most emotionally charged color in human experience. In his systematic study of picture interpretation, Abt found that red consistently connects to our most primal experiences: blood and fire.
Blood ties red to life itself - to biological drives, emotions, love, hatred, passion, sensuality, and sexuality. It's the color of what pumps through our veins, what we're literally made of.
Fire connects red to warmth, but also to destructive heat. Think of a cozy fireplace versus a raging wildfire. Same color, radically different energies.
In the animal kingdom, red serves as a signal color - attracting mates, warning predators, demanding attention. For humans, red triggers emotional responses too. It's the revolutionary's banner, the stop sign we obey worldwide, and the valentine that says "I love you."
Even our language reflects this duality: we "see red" when angry, we're "red-hot" with passion, and we roll out "red carpets" to honor guests. Red contains both Venus (love, union) and Mars (war, division). It can warm us or burn us down.
When You Don't Choose Red: What Your Parts Are Telling You
Here's where it gets interesting: what happens when you're angry but you don't reach for red?
Maybe you grab blue instead - seeking calm, trying to cool down the heat inside you. Or black - feeling the anger as something darker, heavier, more about grief than fire. Or yellow - your anger is bright, sharp, cutting like sunlight rather than burning like flame.
In my work with Internal Family Systems therapy, I've come to understand this as different parts having different color languages. Maybe your angry protector speaks in red, but your young part who's underneath that anger needs blue. Maybe your grief and your rage are so intertwined that only black can hold both.
This is your unconscious speaking a more nuanced language than our culture typically allows. Our society often tells us anger should look one way, feel one way, be expressed one way. But your psyche - and your parts - know better.
The Psychology Behind Your Color Choices
What I find most useful about Abt's approach is how it holds both collective meaning and individual truth. He builds on Jung's understanding that symbols are "overdetermined" - they hold multiple, layered meanings that can't be reduced to a single interpretation.
What red means to you depends on your personal history - did someone you loved wear red, or did trauma happen in a room painted red? It depends on your cultural background: red means luck and celebration in Chinese culture, but danger or sin in some Western contexts. It shifts with your current emotional state; the same color can feel energizing one day and overwhelming the next. And crucially, it depends on which part of you is active. Different internal parts - the angry protector, the vulnerable child, the wise guide - may have completely different relationships with color.
This is why I'm drawn to combining Jungian picture interpretation with parts work - it gives us a framework for understanding that when a client chooses an unexpected color, it's not random or "wrong." It's information. It's a part speaking.
What This Means for Understanding Yourself Through Art
Abt's framework for color symbolism gives us something I find invaluable: structure that doesn't rigidify. The collective meanings offer a starting place - a mirror that parts can look into and either recognize themselves or realize "no, that's not me at all." Either response is information.
Try this practice: Next time you feel a strong emotion, pause before creating. Notice which color you're drawn to. Then get curious. What does this color feel like in your body? If this color could speak, what would it say? Does it match what you think you should be feeling, or is it showing you something unexpected? And here's the IFS question that often unlocks something: Which part of me is choosing this color right now? Who inside me wants this color?
You might discover that your anger isn't actually hot—it's cold. Your grief isn't gray—it's purple. Your joy isn't yellow—it's deep forest green. These discoveries aren't contradictions; they're precision. They're your psyche giving you detailed information about your unique inner experience.
The Gift of Symbolic Thinking
We often rush to figure out what our art "means," as if there's a code to crack. But as Jungian analyst Verena Kast writes, we "live immediately only in the world of images." Meaning isn't something separate from the image - it's embedded within it, inseparable, alive.
When you make art, you're not creating a message to decode later. You're creating a living symbol - something that bridges your conscious and unconscious minds, something that continues to reveal new meanings as you change and grow.
The red you painted three years ago might have meant rage. Today, looking at the same painting, you might see life force, vitality, the courage to speak up. Both meanings are true. The symbol holds them all.
This is what draws me to Jungian approaches to art therapy: the honoring of mystery, the recognition that some things can't be reduced to a single interpretation without killing them.
Why This Matters Beyond the Art Room
Understanding the symbolic language of color isn't just useful for people in therapy or artists. It's a fundamental aspect of being human. Every time you choose what to wear, how to decorate your space, or which emoji to use, you're speaking in color. Learning to listen to what you're saying—and what others are saying through their color choices—deepens every relationship, including the one with yourself.
So the next time you reach for a color, pause. Notice the choice. Thank that part of you for speaking up. And remember: there's no wrong color for any feeling. There's only the truth of what your psyche is trying to tell you, in its own perfectly chosen language.
References: Abt, Theodor. (2005). Introduction to Picture Interpretation According to C.G. Jung. Living Human Heritage Publications.
Kast, Verena. "Symbol." Essay exploring Jung's concept of symbols and their role in psychological life.
About the Author: Katie is a Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor (LPCC-S) and board-certified art therapist (ATR-BC) practicing at Lacuna Counseling in Columbus, Ohio. She integrates Internal Family Systems therapy, art therapy, and Jungian approaches to help clients—especially neurodivergent individuals—access the wisdom of their unconscious through creative expression. She's currently deepening her study of Jungian picture interpretation methods and their application to parts work.
