There aren’t many things that keep me in line these days, but one thing is color. For example, walls, in a house. I’m still in a pain-induced painting phase, just like my grandmother was once in a grief-induced curtain phase, because changing the look of the house is something that is at least somewhat productive. So I’m painting.
One wall briefly turned bright blue, and I hated it when I realized it matched painter’s tape, or maybe the actual sticky color of a Lowe’s utility bucket. Then the wall turned a barely light green color, almost grayish, like a snowy January morning. Now three other walls in my house are the same Earl Grey.
My oldest daughter wants her room to be transformed into a deep teal and has gone back and forth between various shades with names like Blue Peacock and Slate Teal. I suggest we choose lighter, softer tones like Spring Sky or Jack Frost, perhaps with a Bermuda Turquoise accent wall.
My youngest daughter wants green for her room, and the first one she picked was called Galway, and that’s where we were, and where my mom’s family is from, and that’s what we’ll use.
The big wall in our living room was an enigma for a while. Should it be a casual blue, like Mediterranean Breeze? Or grayish that almost leans toward slaty, like the Aleutians? Ultimately, we decided it had to be a deep navy blue, deep blue, but with warm undertones that would still look blue and not black once the darkness of the fall nights arrives. That huge wall is now covered in New York State of Mind, a color recommended by my best friend, who is often right about things, apparently including paint.
The big wall was finally finished last week and for now I’m running out of other things to paint. I need to get back to work. Think about what else you could be creating. The wall was in transition for so long that it continues to amaze me, that deep blue that echoes the upper layers of our atmosphere. I think I’m satisfied with the way it looks.
The other day I put away the tape and the tarp. In a few weeks, when I need to mentally return to Connemara or the tropical Atlantic, the tools will come out again and my family will silently watch me as I start gluing the skirting boards.
Most of my favorite paint colors are usually named after places. Maybe I should sell myself and get into marketing and come up with names for the paints, because Bermuda turquoise and Galway green evoke those places, and those places are where we go to feel rested or at home. I can think of a thousand colors to represent the feelings that places carry. There would be fantastic, thoughtful names for the in-between feelings and in-between places. Pantone for your ecotone.
Painting is a way of escape. I guess that’s why I’m painting.
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Yomagician: Wikimedia Commons
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