A magenta and lavender, tangerine and keylime world

I’m in the midst of painting my kitchen and tiling a backsplash because I often feel the need to do a house project this time of year and my 1896 house is always in need of an update.

I’ve done the kitchen in bits and pieces: a section here and there. Just too overwhelming at once (stripping old wallpaper, prepping walls, then painting and doing whatever else). I don’t seem to have the kind of time for BIG stuff since the kids. It’s not my husband’s thing, so I often do it myself. He’ll help along the way when I need it.

There really is a certain satisfaction in seeing the transformation. A reclaiming of something and reshaping it aesthetically to suit me.

Today I yanked down wallpaper. As the small-print has been replaced by solid splashes of color, I see its insidious nasty factor: it was too busy and made everything look cluttered. I helped my best friend tear her old wallpaper down and she still laughs that I called it evil after it was gone. Plus, this was someone else’s choice and not as vibrant as I like. I am painting the sink wall a deep brick red, to complement the sunflower yellow walls and verdigre-splashed woodwork and cabinets. My living and dining room are a musky brown, my bedroom is raspberry and the exterior is periwinkle with foliage green and tabasco for an accent. I think you get the picture.

I LOVE color!

I wear a lot of purple and orange because it makes me feel better. It tells the world who I am.

I just can not imagine a world without color and I do know it is one of my gifts. I can see a color once and match it dead on months later without having seen it since. Sometimes I forget not everyone has that sense or appreciation for it. My husband is color blind and says he wishes he would know what it’s like to really know color. I love that friends ask my opinion when painting their houses or decorating.

On the surface, it sounds like a shallow thing, but for me it is so intrinsic to who I am. One of my favorite kids’ books is a picture volume with childlike portraits of all types of skin tones with exotic names to match such as cinnamon, cocoa and peanut butter. Have you ever thought about people’s skin that way?

It’s just how I view the world: in magenta and lavender, tangerine and keylime ...

• What really makes me explode into contentment?
• Is there untapped creativity in my life?
• Is there creativity I can and should share?
• How do I nourish my creative life?


Greece was blinding sun-bleached white,
azure blue and dazzling gold.
Italy was earthy terra cotta,
marigold yellow and
tarnished copper.
Paris was more muted,
but nonetheless joyful:
tumbled bone, a dusty
deep blue and sunset gold.

I see life in a
symphony
of color.

For which
I am eternally
grateful.