My arms ache. My legs ache. My knees ache. My hands ache. My fingers ache. But it's the best kind of ache - the Sense Of Achievement ache, of having got around to doing something productive, and dare I say it, incredibly personal, on the house. I added colour. Just a small amount. But enough. I am a firm believer you don't need much colour, but a little well placed colour can add so much to a space. I strengthened the white walls around us with deep intense colour, and light bright colours of children's imaginations. The colour equation looks something like this:
1 red wall + 3 white walls = When we first moved into our house, we wanted to paint each and every wall. We chose colours at that time, painted Max's room, and the front of the house, and the study. And got sidetracked with Life. Meanwhile we sanded back and patched in small holes elsewhere in the house, did colour swatches in slightly hidden areas, the children spilt food and drink all over the walls, and grubby hands and feet got laid over them, then Pia decided colouring in the walls would be fun, and everytime I've walked past some walls I've thought 'just get the paint out and paint woman'. And I never did because I know just how much time and energy and space you need to paint. All of which are in very short supply. Right now I can paint while children are away. One wall in our ostensibly 'white' house is red [I never choose 'white' paint. There is always a colour to the whites I choose - stark white rarely looks great in all light conditions, and against all your furnishings or materials. We use a cold grey based white, which is wonderful and clean and crisp against the warm timber floors and the brilliant sunlight we get through parts of the house. Shall we call it A[n almost] White]. The red wall was deep fire engine red with purpose and brilliance. It was in Max's room. And it was fabulous. I loved the red wall. But I recognise there's a time to do something different, and the arrival of the bunk beds meant the red would be too dark and imposing in their room.
1 green wall + 3 [almost] white walls = I had a hankering for green. Max wanted green, he'd been asking for a while for it. I knew green would work well in the room, the light it gets through the year, and with their furniture, pictures and toys. We now have a green wall [saved for a future post when I get the rest of the room sorted] which is decidedly playful and a wonderful accent against white.
1 [almost] black wall + a number of [almost white] walls = Something deliciously grown up. The children have their colour, and now we have our colour. A deep dark luscious [almost] black wall - Taubmans 'Black Fox'. It is rich in it's colour makeup, heavily based in the blue spectrum, but containing green in certain lights, and a hint of brown depending on the strength of sunlight against it, rich tones of aniseed and oil slicks. It is on the main wall of our living area. A large wall. And contrary to what we think when we think of painting houses to make a space feel bigger [white! paint it all white!] we have prooved what I have long tried to get people to understand, that painting a very large wall black or dark, adds immense depth and scale to a room, and can actually made it feel bigger - something many people are reluctant to agree with, or attempt in their own houses. It's drammatic. And full of emotion and character. The fact it looks fantastic with our black table against it and a large vase full of bird of paradise flowers has nothing to do with it. Every single colour within it's vacinity is heightened and strengthened - clarity of line and shadow and light is absolute. I adore this wall.
3 slightly grey walls + too much energy = Almost the entire corridor repainted. It's a long corridor. With high ceilings. The trouble with painting is...you start...and then you don't know when to stop. You paint one wall, and then the other ones around you look awful, so you go and start them too. And then you end up with blisters on your hands and dribbles of paint through the house. I am determined to overcome this fear of putting up pictures this week - of getting past the 'permanence' of hanging pictures and allowing the walls to come to life with images, and who cares if I change my mind a month down the track, I know I can change the image....I now have a corridor of photos framed and ready to hang tonight. Which is why I had to paint the walls.
And why I now really ache.
