Paint It. Black?
A Wire-to-Wire painting marathon.
photograph by Eyewave | Dreamstime
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There’s nothing less punk than painting the wood paneling in your home office an antique white called “Queen Anne’s Lace.” Not even if you’ve got a classic Wire album cranked while you do it. Thank goodness I was never that punk to begin with.
But such was the situation I was in trying to finish one of the last rooms left to be updated in my new-to-me home. For about eight hours, I found myself in the eye of the painting storm, Wire’s 1978 punk/post-punk Chairs Missing in heavy rotation. Some thoughts on the experience, with my apologies to Wire for shuffling their track order:
Song: “Practice Makes Perfect”
Lyric: Practice makes perfect, I’ve done this before/
Never for money, always for love
After moving in, my family spent countless hours painting the house’s interior. The last two to get the brush treatment were the master bathroom (in this instance, an irony on the level of “jumbo shrimp”) and the combo office/guest room.
A houseguest’s wish
The office got painting priority over the bathroom because, basically, we stopped paying bills because we couldn’t find them in the disorganization of our makeshift pre-office. It was either paint the office or move to a country without an extradition treaty with the U.S. Besides, with a slate of house-guests, we needed to have proper accommodations squared away. So we picked our colors (“Queen Anne’s Lace” and “Drawbridge”) and got slingin’.
It’s less complicated than it simply should be
It’s a phenomenon the exact opposite of “my eyes were bigger than my stomach.” I look at a room and think: This won’t be that hard to paint. I just have to paint the ceiling, four walls, and a little trim. What could be so difficult about that?
“I Am the Fly”
To protect my chosen target
I have a love/hate relationship with painter’s tape. On one hand, how great that I don’t have to be Cool Hand Luke on surfaces near trim? On the other hand, what am I, some kind of human tape dispenser?
And I’m standing alone still getting a thrill
The tape up, now I can finally get to painting. They say to paint the edges of the wall first, then roll the middle. But I want results. So I roll first, delighting in the square footage gobbled up.
With a 4 a.m. stubble
It’s hours later … holy cow, how could so much time have passed without me thinking about it? How many times have I listened to this Wire CD? I decide to break and reconvene the next day.
“Another the Letter”
You suddenly find things getting life-size
The first day of painting’s good. The second day’s tough. When you next look at the room you’ve been working on, you realize you’ve not done nearly as much work as you went to bed thinking you had.