Ok, I know I’ve been absent.
I have a good excuse- actually, a couple of good excuses:
- I have a confession post that I don’t want to post, and it seems that until I post it not a lot else is getting past in my brain, and
- I’ve been painting.
Given that I don’t want to post the confession post, let’s talk about the painting. House painting, that is.
This is a mini confession in itself.
My name is Jo Tracey and I like painting.
Sure I hate the cleanup, and the turps, and the smell of oil based paint (which is largely what I’ve been working with this week), but the likes outweigh these…in fact, here are 5…likes, that is…
The potential for change
I’m an immediate gratification girl. I don’t like the waiting bit- for anything. It’s why I don’t get off as much on gardening- waiting for hedges to grow and gaps to fill in all seems a little too far away.
But painting, now that’s completely different. With painting there’s the opportunity to change an entire look of a room in just 24 hours.
And that, in my book, is bang for your buck.
I have a painting playlist. Sad but true. It’s all stuff that I can bang my head to or sing into the roller with as I balance precariously on the top step of the 2 step ladder…yes, I live dangerously.
I see a little sillouhetto of a man, Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Can you do the fandango? Thunderbolts and lightening, very very frightening me…
We have some classic Queen, a bit of Angels, some early Oils, (at last count) 4 versions of Under Pressure, some Screaming Jets, a little Redgum, Chisel (of course), Paul Kelly (for the lyrics), and the entirety of my gym mix for something more up to date and boppy.
Another sad but true. Up a ladder, with a paint brush in my hand, I am the most glamorous person on the block. I have a Bintang Beer singlet with the remnants of every paint job I’ve done for the last few years. In truth, I use it as a rag to clean spills…while it’s still on me. I also wear an old pair of striped gym pants and my old yellow floral Havaianas, ie thongs/flip flops/jandals. And the piece de resistance, a hippy dippy oversized scrunchie hair turban/wrappy thing.
The Changing Rooms moment
Remember that show? The contestants would get $1000 to transform a room in a weekend while designers would float around looking designerish and important? My favourite part of that show was the paint reveal- when Laurence Llewelyn Bowen would flip the top of the paint tin to reveal the colour.
I do that, on the garage floor. I call Sarah in and make her wait while I find the screw driver that best fits the paint lid and then I open it and stand back, waiting for the reaction. Usually it’s something like , ‘yep, ok, can I go back inside now?’
At least once during every painting project I fantasise about doing a full house transformation- like on The Block. I tell myself that I’m pretty handy with a power tool, and I love Bunnings…and tradies… Ok, so I don’t like people at close quarters that much, and I’d be likely to lose it if a camera was shoved into my face at 6.30 in the morning…
Yep, even with the music blaring, I find the process almost meditative. Like lap swimming, but messier. I compose blogs from the top of a ladder, work out plot issues and have lightbulb moments. Like the one I had yesterday about glad wrapping my blinds- they wouldn’t come out of the brackets, you see…