This happens every time. Every time I begin a big project, I stumble through the early phases, under-motivated and uninspired. Then, I get a small symbolic chunk checked off the list-- such as a freshly painted front door-- and from there it's suddenly exciting and thrilling and all I want is more more more.
I am so pleased with how this is turning out. It is genuinely amazing what a difference a coat of paint makes. Suddenly things go from shabby and run-down to polished and pretty.
The color is a little enigmatic on film-- in person it's more of a teal. Deep, dark teal. In Binghamton there was a house around the corner from us that was painted a dark cerulean blue. Mornings when I'd board the bus for the classes I was taking at the time, plug in my iPod and blearily cruise past, I'd imagine it was made of velvet. Something about that color-- it changed the texture in a way I've been thinking about since. Standing on the street, I am pleased to report our house-- or at least, our porch-- now looks as if it's made of velvet too.
I can't wait to continue heat-gunning and scraping and priming and painting... wait, scratch that. I can't wait to see the results of continued heat-gunning and scraping and priming and painting. Of course, snow is forecast for next week, so there's no telling how far I will really get on this before winter. Thank goodness we have next year, and next year, and the year after that...
Happy Friday, friends!
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