The Act of Painting

If you want to experience a hidden New York treasure, then you should go to the basement paint department at the Manhattan Home Depot on 23rd Street. At that location, you can watch New York couples implode as they try and pick out paint colors. It is a graveyard of relationships.

The wife and I prefer the Home Depot in Yonkers. Less couple strife, and more space. We were there over the long weekend to pick the colors for our living room. We generally know the colors we want to use, now it’s just a matter of getting the correct complementary hues. And we did it all without an argument.

Points for us.

Which means that when school is out, I’m going to start painting the living room. But before the painting, there will be patching holes in the walls. And then cleaning. It’s a small apartment, so half the living room is going to have to temporarily hold all the stuff while I paint the open half, then a swap, and I paint the other half. Oh, and I have to paint the ceiling as well. I think I can get the kid to help… I think…

I’m saying all of this because I have to psych myself up to it. It feels like a shit ton of work, because it is a shit ton of work. Will I feel better when the job is done? Most likely. Pretty much. Yes, yes, I will feel immensely better when the job is completed.

Not that the whole job is a chore. The actual painting is enjoyable. The repetitive motion, the up and down, back and forth. Music helps, but the sound of the paint rolling on the wall has a satisfying quality to it. And in the end, painting is making a change, and change can be fun.


Discover more from

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Comments

Leave a comment

Discover more from

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading