mardi 2 février 2010

Throwing in the trowel

Plaster's still life
And the plaster's still alive.


You cannot imagine how long I have been waiting to be able to use that line. Throwing in the trowel. As in, "That'll do, Sispyhe. That'll do. Time to throw in the trowel."

[Sispyhe beams up at her Farmer, who looks back upon her with satisfaction in a job well enough done.]

I can barely type, that's how much the right side of my neck and shoulder blade hurt, but that won't stop me from trading in my trowels for my brushes and lugging the giant pot of universal primer down from our bedroom, where I left off painting the last time with our French door, and out to the soon-to-be Crystal Room. What shall we call Crystal (the name of the paint color)? It's a very, very light blue with a tinge of violet, like twilight.

I also considered Jungle Green (not yet ruled out) and a very strong free-range hen egg yolk yellow, but this color spoke to me. It is peaceful and serene, clear and delicate like first and last light on mountaintop snow and glaciers.

The French door. Remind me to tell that story, too.


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