I don’t know why I haven’t been able to go to my studio. It started because I was recovering and trying to stay in or near bed. Then it was because I would rather be writing than drawing, and writing in my studio is difficult right now. But I miss it. Instead, I’ve been painting my house all over again, doing something visual and important to me, but circumventing the studio in the process.
I painted the wall with the fireplace red because the fireplace seemed to disappear and I wanted more attention in that direction, and because fireplaces are warm and the red feels warm even with the fireplace off. But the red felt too stuffy, like it was trying too hard to be rich. So I painted the mantel bright pink to play off of the red. But the pink was so very bright, too bright. There was nothing in the room that matched it and it asked for too much attention. So I painted it a color just off from red, more raspberry, to clash nicely with the red. I liked it, but when I saw it from the outside at night it just looked like it was trying too hard. It looked like I was poor and this was my sad way to make something look nice. So today I painted it fishing hole blue. So far I like it okay.
Below the mantel, covering the fireplace, is a brass cover that I’ve always disliked. So today I spraypainted it black, which may or may not have been a good idea. The black is so shiny and really looks like plastic. And it’s noticeable enough that even Rosie asked about it when she walked in the house.
I also decided to paint the adirondack chairs. They’re in the front of our house and last year I stained them to match the cedar accents on our house but they faded and the stain stripped off. I tried painting on black, but it looked hot as tar and I didn’t want to sit on it. I thought about painting it white, but it’s in the front of the house and that draws too much attention to it. So today I painted them the color of the house, and tomorrow I’ll paint accent colors on them that will help them not look so uniform.
The paint spray gun I used broke literally every three seconds, and on top of that I was wearing a massive ventilation mask all day so that I wouldn’t have to inhale any paint fumes. This might be akin to writing an essay in a class, while gagged, with a pencil that repeatedly snaps. I had to lie down twice because yesterday I read that the embryo learns from the cortisol levels in its mother what kind of world it should expect to come into — a stressful one? a peaceful one? Yes, embryo! Peace is even in the paint gun.