I'm really not OCD. Well, borderline maybe. I sometimes have messy drawers, my closet isn't organized by color, I have a junk drawer (Steve has a junk garage!), and I tolerate the mess on Steve's desk quite well. I probably haven't swept all the stacks of stuff into a drawer more than a half dozen times over the years.
I have a low tolerance for chaos. Having a painter in the house is just that. The thought of having the house torn up makes me anxious.
First there is the whole issue of picking colors. We went to Home Depot and acquired a Behr color deck. I picked colors. We bought samples. I smeared the samples here and there. Then I called my friend, critique partner, and artist extraordinare, Victoria Landis.
I have a low tolerance for chaos. Having a painter in the house is just that. The thought of having the house torn up makes me anxious.
First there is the whole issue of picking colors. We went to Home Depot and acquired a Behr color deck. I picked colors. We bought samples. I smeared the samples here and there. Then I called my friend, critique partner, and artist extraordinare, Victoria Landis.
The conversation went something like this. "OMG! You can't put that color there. What? Are you color blind?" Okay, Vicki really wasn't rude, but she was pointed. So, when she came to critique group last Thursday, she helped with choosing new, more appropriate colors.
That in itself was interesting. Steve's business was fixing furniture. He fixed finishes, matched colors, and generally made imperfections disappear. He sees colors differently than I do. "That has tones of orange."
"If you say so. Who am I to argue?"
That in itself was interesting. Steve's business was fixing furniture. He fixed finishes, matched colors, and generally made imperfections disappear. He sees colors differently than I do. "That has tones of orange."
"If you say so. Who am I to argue?"
Vicki is the same way. She see nuances of color that aren't there for me. It's similar to a musician hearing things in music that other people may not hear.
Vicki told me a long time ago that I had painted the inside of my house white. I thought it was beige. Steve agreed it was a shade of white. I don't get it.
So Steve and Vicki picked the colors while I said things like, "That's nice." "Pretty." "Okay." "Works for me." What do I know about color? They picked two beige shades for me to choose from, Alpaca or Moccasin.
To me, both colors looked beige. No tones. Just beige. Light beige. Dark beige. Medium beige. Okay, maybe, "That's looks a bit yellow to me." The Alpaca looked a bit darker. I picked that.
Vicki told me a long time ago that I had painted the inside of my house white. I thought it was beige. Steve agreed it was a shade of white. I don't get it.
So Steve and Vicki picked the colors while I said things like, "That's nice." "Pretty." "Okay." "Works for me." What do I know about color? They picked two beige shades for me to choose from, Alpaca or Moccasin.
To me, both colors looked beige. No tones. Just beige. Light beige. Dark beige. Medium beige. Okay, maybe, "That's looks a bit yellow to me." The Alpaca looked a bit darker. I picked that.
It went the same way with the other rooms as well. My light green kitchen in now a deep sage, Cheyenne. (Who names these things anyway?)
The blue I picked for my new den, office, writing room, and exercise space (treadmill) morphed into a soft grayish-blue called Silver Mist. The blue bathroom became Santorini Blue, which is also a grayish-blue shade, though a bit darker.
The end result is that Vicki and Steve were 100% right. I like the way the Alpaca picks up colors from the artwork. My blue den is soft and restful.
Having the rooms torn apart feels chaotic and claustraphobic to me. Steve knows that, so we rip the rooms apart first thing in the morning and put the days mess in place at the end of the day. It has been hard work. I often wear a pedometer (Weight Watchers goal of 10,000 steps a day). Yesterday I clocked 11,000 steps and didn't even get on the treadmill, and I'm not doing the painting this time. The painter, Phil Gagne, is much faster, better, and more tidy than I am--and he cleans up after himself.
The end result? Beautiful.
GEB
Next week I'll be participating in the Florida Crazy Blog Hop. It is sponsored by the Florida Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. I predict it will be good reading, and there is a giveaway contest for a Kindle Paperwhite.
The blue I picked for my new den, office, writing room, and exercise space (treadmill) morphed into a soft grayish-blue called Silver Mist. The blue bathroom became Santorini Blue, which is also a grayish-blue shade, though a bit darker.
The end result is that Vicki and Steve were 100% right. I like the way the Alpaca picks up colors from the artwork. My blue den is soft and restful.
Having the rooms torn apart feels chaotic and claustraphobic to me. Steve knows that, so we rip the rooms apart first thing in the morning and put the days mess in place at the end of the day. It has been hard work. I often wear a pedometer (Weight Watchers goal of 10,000 steps a day). Yesterday I clocked 11,000 steps and didn't even get on the treadmill, and I'm not doing the painting this time. The painter, Phil Gagne, is much faster, better, and more tidy than I am--and he cleans up after himself.
The end result? Beautiful.
GEB
Next week I'll be participating in the Florida Crazy Blog Hop. It is sponsored by the Florida Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. I predict it will be good reading, and there is a giveaway contest for a Kindle Paperwhite.
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