The painting bug hit me in the summer of 2012. I’m not talking about latent Picasso-esque or Michelango-like tendencies. I’m referring to the desire to give a fresh, energized look to the old. It’s a new itch to scratch, especially since I was never allowed to lay a brush on the family walls as a kid. I’ve since familiarized myself with a lexicon that includes Dulux, Behr, latex, alkyd, pile, eggshell, satin, stain, varnish, primer, and my curiosity has transformed my skill and style base from neophyte painter to a determined and fairly skilled painter. I’ve even honed my techniques for a more professional job: paint brush the corners before you roller brush everything else. Never use full gloss on any surface, unless you are bringing back disco. If you want to two-tone a paint job, make sure the secondary paint colour is a good and exaggerated contrast to the first paint colour chosen. Blobs are the bane of any painter, and my eye has since developed the ability to spot them from a distance and up close. What I haven’t been able to smooth over with the roller has fallen victim to the recently acquainted mouse sander.
It is not just the desire to give a new coat of paint to the old but the greater, innate capacity to act as transformer of both myself and my subject.
My paint pants proudly sport the swashes of many colours and projects. Room walls, window frames, ceilings, closets, garages, house exteriors, doors, and even old armoires have since borne testimony to one more item to cross off my bucket list. Of course, like everything else I do, I tend to go overboard. Craziness by this definition is painting the underside, sides, and inside of drawers and the back of the matching chest.