I dread
painting. Not the kind of painting that is water-based pigment applied to a
fine piece of watercolor paper. NO. I
dread painting things like the interior walls of our home. Little projects like a touch-up of the wood
around the windows where (ahem) someone put some flower pots and then over-watered
the plants so the shelf got all wet and the paint blistered and peeled. Yeah,
that kind of undertaking.
It’s a cardinal rule
that no job to fix up things in a house can be done without initiating a domino
effect resulting in big expenditures, several shopping trips, exasperation and
frustration.
This little
project was on the list all summer since the paint would be the stinky
oil-based kind that really requires plenty of ventilation. Head rushes and dizzy spells just aren’t as
fun as they used to be.
Summer is
over. No more procrastination. A shopping trip to the paint store followed a
couple of domestic discussions and said paint and supplies were purchased.
Then there was the
removing of curtains and blinds, the relocation of all furniture in the way, the
covering of the floor with newspaper, the changing into ugly clothes, the
sanding down of the woodwork, etc. etc.
Because the old
paint had peeled all the way down to bare wood on the window ledges we decided
to put down a couple of extra coats. So
the project dragged on for several days while we wandered around the kitchen in
the evening with no curtains to hide us from our neighbors. Also I decided to put a fresh coat of paint
on a stool and a little table which were the same color.
When the paint
was finally all applied and sort of dry there came another tripping of
dominoes. Curtain rods and curtains were
grubby and gross and had to be scrubbed and washed. Then I lost some of the little metal hooks
that held the curtains to the rings.
Safety pins work just as well. We
turned a blind eye to the dust on the blinds and put things back together.
There was the
cleanup and the pulling of blue tape.
The tape became
a temporary art installation I titled.
“Dreads.”
Notice the use of synthetic materials
arranged in a ragged and complex form evocative of a reggae hairstyle. The interactive adhesive quality of the tape
and semi-dry paint resulted in a sensory experience of tackiness plus dissolution
of the line between art and life. There
was also the conflict of the pleasure of a completed project and the inner need
to finalize cleanup. Criticism and a
lack of sympathetic involvement shortened the display engagement.
