Success: painted my headboard white. Got a pint of olympic no voc paint, started mid-day Sunday, got two coats on and it was dry enough to put everything back together enough by bedtime to sleep. Has an "it's always looked like that, right?" kind of quality to it. Versus, a "wow! that looks GREAT!" quality. Much like my haircuts. I say, let's cut it shorter. Stylist (she is a gem) says, how fun, let's! Then, no one notices. Thank goodness I am not that vain... just don't want to feel ugly and awkward and all that. But maybe I was hoping for more shazzam from painting the headboard than I actually accomplished. Kind of like cutting an inch of length off my hair. But alas - it looks better. No more stained teeth, now it is freshly white strips looking white.
Did find a fabric I loved for my stuffed animal pillow. And fabric for shams. They were bold. He hates it. So, compromise but not collapse is my modus now. Try to find my way to feeling okay on both sides, but not give up my self-expression (yet again) in this particular situation. So, this weekend I may have to take a gentle stand and make the one pillow-like concoction out of the fabric I still love. It's my little pillow, after all. Finding a path to expressing one's creativity when it has been utterly squashed for a decade is interesting work, to say the least. It feels a bit like flailing about, grabbing onto something dramatic, perhaps to make a point? Who knows. But, in this particular instance, it was less than successful. Sham fabric = hated completely. Equals hurt feelings, squashed self-expression, et al. SO - regroup! Make the one pillow out of the slightly less hated, and cannot really argue with how perfectly it matches everything fabric. Re-visit the idea of new fabric for the pillow shams. Neutral color. Plain. Dare I say, boring? Ugh. Oh well. Middle ground is the goal, but middle ground I am comfortable on. That is the key.
Key issues: fabric was dark (chocolate brown, gorgeous to my eye); and most critically, it was floral. Floral? Huge crime.
Enough about that, though. A day of greasy snow and slow roads, and day to leave work early while it is still light out and driving is a wee bit safer, and a day to stop at the store on the way home for bacon for supper. Bacon, humanely raised bacon (well, more accurately, from humanely raised hogs), roasted with maple syrup brushed on it (thanks barefoot contessa).
That'll do.
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