When things become peculiar, frustrating and strange, I think it’s a good time to start painting. ~James Rosenquist
I know. I know. He’s talking about a different kind of painting. But that wasn’t the kind of painting I was doing. I’m painting my bathroom. Not exactly the most artistic thing. Truth is, about the only artistic painting I ever did was paint by numbers pictures when I was a kid. I had one of cats that I was very proud of. Maybe because that was the only one I ever finished. Do you remember those paint-by-number kits? All those little lines with numbers. Some of the spaces were very small. Too small for me to navigate with my brush.
That’s sort of the way I felt today as the bathroom I was painting is small. As one of my Facebook friends said, time for some contortionist moves. I never was very limber, even as a kid. I’m not a kid any longer and even less limber. But I got the primer on the walls. Well, some of it on the walls and some more of it on me. Still have some of it on me. I scrubbed and scrubbed, but decided white spotted skin was to be desired over no skin at all!
Do you think Frankie is wishing he could help here? More likely he’s wondering why we’re not outside walking. Luckily, he stayed in the doorway and didn’t flap his tail or ears in the paint. He did get a little bored with the whole process and decided to take a nap. I was sort of bored with the whole process too, but soldiered on. Now, if I can still move in the morning, I’ll put the color on the walls.
One thing I discovered is that I’m not as young as I used to be. That should be pretty obvious, right? We get older with each passing day and each birthday that zooms past. Still, it can come as a surprise that it’s not as easy to do things as it used to be. Today I sort of felt the way I did after I had my first baby back when I was young. I was really young then. But I remember trying to do a sit up after a week or so and oops, I couldn’t. That felt very weird. My stomach muscles did rebound from being stretched out of shape and I could do sit ups again. No, I haven’t tried any lately. Seem to have trouble fitting sit-ups into my schedule. Maybe I should have so that I wouldn’t have been surprised today when I was having trouble getting down into those narrow places.
The getting down wasn’t so bad. It was the getting up that was surprising. My knees didn’t want to bounce me right up the way I expected them too. I think they went out on strike without telling me. Maybe one of those sit-in strikes where they sit down and don’t plan to get up. That’s the trouble with painting rooms instead of canvases. You have to reach high and then you have to reach low all the while doing your best not to spatter paint all over the floor. I suppose some canvases can be huge where the artist needs a ladder, but others sit right there on an easel at the perfect level to splash a bit of paint here and there. I wouldn’t know how to splash it in the right places, so maybe I’d better stick to painting walls and my hands. And my arms. And my knees. Maybe that’s why they went on strike. But do you know how easy it is to bump into the wall you just painted when you’re not so hot at those contortionist movements? If you don’t, trust me. It is.
Have you done any home improvement projects this year? If you’re good come on over and I’ll give you a paintbrush. Then because it would really be crowded with two people in that little bathroom, I’ll go get us some sweet iced tea. I’d even fetch a chair and settle down by Frankie in the doorway. If you want, I’ll read to you in between sips of tea. I’m guessing you are ready to pass on that offer. 
As always thanks for reading. Have you ever gotten paint in your hair?