This morning I decided to paint the disaster that is our guest room/office/hall closet/storage room. It may have been foolhardy, since that room on any given day looks as though a tornado went through it twice. The painting is supposed to somehow rescue it from abandonment and magically turn it into a beautiful and practical, tidy multitasker. Anyway, I embarked on this perilous but thrilling adventure nonetheless (after procrastinating a while at a local thrift shop where I bought a yellow wool skirt after trying on a gazillion other things, including a marvellous red sequined floor-length number that maybe I should go back and get tomorrow, because really, what I need is one more impossible dress to hang somewhere).
Also, I came home to discover that I had no paint roller, and decided to use a paint brush instead. Another moment of temporary insanity. But it looks ... AMAZING (so far). The paint I bought ages ago for this room is a pale, pale green, very "dirty" and lovely and since it's being brushed on, it looks lovely and chalky, like limestone or some Gustavian extravaganza.
Now the real derring-do here is that I decided to test out the "paint the trim the same colour as the walls" theory. Which I've been meaning to try out in real life for a while. I'm not usually the type of person to regret things once they're done, but after painting about a foot of moulding around the door, I was horrified. It was just wrong, terribly wrong. It's like driving on the wrong side of the road. I'm going to leave it for now, just to see.
The room is now more than half done, which is quite an accomplishment considering the fact that a) I was using a paintbrush and b) the room is full of stuff that I can't move out of there, only shift around.
When E. gets home he will undoubtedtly think me a fool, but I can feel the beauty about to emerge there somewhere.... tomorrow will tell.
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