She said, “We’ll have to live together a long time. What’s your hurry?” She said, “Maybe we should wait until we’re sure.” But it didn’t matter, I was in love. I had decided.
But soon I wondered, is this a marriage that’s going to last? There’s no going back. You have to live with your decision. Like any relationship, doubt is the enemy. You wonder, months from now, will you still be in love or admit that you made a mistake? You commit to the resposibility of a new relationship, yet how sure can you be? Paint is like that.
Once you befriend a color, brand doesn’t matter. You’ll forget where you bought it, and words like premium, deluxe, and designer tease you into falling in love. But withstanding the bumps and bruises of a long term relationship requires durability, yet ‘eggshell’ denotes fragility. Will it withstand life’s everyday bumps and bruises? Doubt. The truth is, over time color becomes a trait that you can learn to accept, like a friend’s height, or a hair style. But that initial meeting, that choice, it can be intimidating.
You’ll forget, the lighting at the big box store, was it natural, or artificial? Doubt. What mood were you in when you bought it? Doubt. You thought you were just buying paint, but the can says One Gallon Sherwin Williams Burnt Umber Eggshell Latex Premium Designer Edition One Coat Primer Plus. Paint. Fifteen adjectives? It reads like the scientific name of an endangered species. Every word tells a story, but you fell in love with the color. Color is personality. Now you wonder, are you quiet or loud? Powerful or mousy? Exciting and inviting? Lazy or comfortable?
Once I committed, I thought, it doesn’t matter to me. Doubt? I’ll do my duty. I’ll paint the paint. Raindrops were splashing the window. The radio was on. The tarp was down. The room was taped off. The routine familiar. Open the can, stir the soup. Spin art from the fair? A tornado hitting a rainbow? Doubt. Vomit? Doubt. Then consistency. Victory? Wait. Is this orange? Doubt! Still, a painter paints the paint. Fill the tray. Cut it in, roll it on. Move the ladder and repeat.
Doubt waxed and waned as multiple moods drying here and there suggested this and that. While I worked, shades and shadows whispered a variety of colorful hues. The next day, assessing the work, a robin spoke. Setting my coffee down I smiled, smelling the fresh paint. And as I opened the door letting in the morning sun, the room sang to me loud and clear. “Welcome,” it said, erasing all doubt. mike@mikeperry.biz