As far as projects I am totally kicking some major ass here.
The room is all primed. That's the best shot of it I could get. It's a small room. There is something inherintly beautiful about a perfectly primed room. Like a untouched canvas, I am in awe of it and had to sit and stare for a while. There are just moments in art that are extremely zen to me...a newly starched drop, a freshly stretched canvas, a primed room, an untouched gloss black floor. They are so beautiful and sexy and ...mystical. It's like the zen idea of the uncarved block. It has the potential to be everything and yet is nothing. Its hard to explain but I find these moments to be extremely spiritually profound. It is also very terrifying. Sometimes I just stare at the blankness scared to start. Afraid that whatever I may do to that particular canvas, be it a theatre flat or a canvas, a piece of watercolor paper or a wall in my house, that whatever mark I make on it will totally screw it up. I find the perfect potental of it very intimidating. That whatever I may do it it will fall short of what it truely could be.
I have a frame over my mantle that very few understand. Its a beautiful frame and there's nothing in it. I get a lot of jokes but I find the absence of art in it to be the same as the uncarved block. It is an opportunity to use one's imagination. I don't think I am explaining all this very well, but then again I don't have to.But we DID pick colors for the room (I'm already second guessing the ceiling color now that the first coat is up) but here they are. Prepare to be shocked.
Ceiling:Pale Vista
Trim:White
Walls: Potpourri Green/Stem Green
I know the colors are very light and bright, but there is a reason. The room is small and tends to be very dark. We are getting good sun now, but once the leaves pop on all the trees around us that disappears. This room will be the guestroom and the nursery should I become pregnant. Plus I'm in this weird lime green phase and those were the best compromise.
2 comments:
Turning thirty is difficult. Robb was intolerable for an entire year when he was twenty-nine. I thought I was going to have to smother him in his sleep.
When I turned twenty-nine, I didn't want to subject my friends to a year of self doubt, and what-am-I-doing-with-my-life angst. So I ran away from home. I quit my museum job and did an internship in scenic painting.
I think the thing is that the last time your cosmic odometer turns over, you're too busy thinking about turning twenty-one and getting to have beers legally to pay much attention. Thirty sneaks up on you, often badly.
Hang in there!
PS -- I love the room colors!
I love freshly painted walls too. I hate to make holes in them for pictures and other foo-foo. It ruins all that perfectness.
Picking out colors is so hard. It takes so much work to get them up there and then you have to live with them a long long time. Or paint over I suppose, but I am a lazy person and would live with them. I think they're pretty.
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