Forged by Fire

Seriously....UGLY.

I recently painted my entire apartment. Living room, dining room, hallway, and kitchen. I painted the walls…the trim…the baseboard…and anything else in between. I have been begging my landlord to let me paint my apartment since I first moved in two years ago. He had previously painted the walls a faded white, while the trim was hunter green. I’m trying to be diplomatic when I say that…I seriously wanted to puke every time I looked at the walls in my apartment. I love the size of my apartment- it's on the first floor of a house, and it's very homey with a significant amount of room. But the hunter green trim...was just...wow.

Once my landlord  finally realized that I was a satisfactory tenant, he gave me permission to paint my apartment. Of course, because I’m me, I took his permission to the extreme and decided that his permission to “paint” also extended to “making any changes that I wanted.” (Picture me in my kitchen ripping down cupboards). So, suffice to say, I also made a few…er…modifications…in addition to all the painting that I mentioned above.

This might sound silly, but it was quite the sharp learning curve for me to learn how to paint. Sometimes I joke with people that I am blessed with two talents (academics and athletics), and everything else feels like I’m constantly boarding the proverbial struggle bus. Painting was no different. I had no idea how to use a roller, and “cutting-in” sounded like a great mystery that only someone with extremely well-honed fine motor skills could do. Heck, I barely even knew how to put up painter’s tape.  One of my friends laughed (nicely) when she first saw me putting it up, and she took me aside to show me the right way to do it.  Thankfully, my sister and a couple of friends are amazing, and they helped/showed me how to paint.

Even after their initial help, however, I had a loooot of painting to do by myself. Make no mistake- painting your entire apartment by yourself is a significant time commitment (the project stretched out over a month). And, of course, the project wouldn’t have been complete if I didn’t have a couple of…incidents…along the way. There was the time that I spilled an entiiiire bucket of white paint on my three seasons porch. I saw my life flash before my eyes before I realized that it spilled on linoleum, and this enabled me to not only clean up the mess, but I was able to save some of the paint. My favorite incident occurred when I stuck my foot in a gallon of paint, and I had to hop to my bathroom on one foot in order to clean it off. (Many of these incidents could have been avoided, clearly, if I would learn to put the lid on the paint). Of course, a few drops did manage to permanently find their way to my carpet, thereby staining it. I was able to creatively address this problem, however, by realizing that I could simply cut the stains out of the carpet with a scissors. (Don’t worry- my landlord doesn’t read this blog).

MUCH BETTER!
(Ignore the carpet- still working on my landlord for that one!)

I have a tendency to imbue significant meaning on nearly everything in my life, and my painted apartment is no exception. Now that the project is done, I am THRILLED that I painted it. It just feels so much more home-y…so much more Anne-ish….and I just feel even more settled and content here than before.

However, it definitely took me awhile to get to that “grateful” point. There were several points during the project when I cursed myself, cursed my landlord, cursed the color hunter green, and cursed a few other things for good measure. I think at one point I even casually looked to see if there was a Groupon for hiring people for painting projects. I mean…it took a REALLY long time. I work full-time, and I also have many relationships and obligations outside my job. So it was very difficult to find time to paint. Meanwhile, while trying to find time to paint, I had to live with the chaos of having my furniture turned every which way and not being able to properly sit down and eat meals. Moreover, it was really messy. Paint got all over my table, my clothes, and myself. I got so used to having paint on myself that I wouldn’t even think twice about going out in public to run errands with splatters on my body. Suffice to say…it was quite the ordeal to paint my apartment.

But I am grateful for the meanings that I have gleaned from this project. I realized that I continue to be more influenced by a culture of instant gratification than I realized. Of course it is going to take awhile to paint an entire apartment by yourself!! Especially when it's your first time engaging in such a project. Of course, it is going to be messy!! It's paint! Why did I think that I could instantly have my apartment painted without incident?!?!

It sounds so simple, almost cliché, and yet is a lesson that I find myself learning over, and over, again. The most beautiful, incredible aspects of life are those that are worth the work and the wait. Indeed, they are so beautiful that the journey itself often becomes beautiful, even when it has bumps along the way. Now, in hindsight, I love telling people about all of the “stupid” things that I did in my painting process.  I love thinking about the time that I spent with my sister, my friends, and myself in the process. I love the time that I spent engaging my body and mind in creativity. Moreover, I would not enjoy the final product if I did not feel/remember all of the work and time that went into its creation.

I think about the larger symbolism as well- I think about all of the trials and tribulations that we experience as humans. And I’ll be the first to admit that I bemoan (AKA whine about) my fair share of the trials that fall into my life. But I’m at a point where I can really see how they shape me as a person- it is often the trials that best hone my strength, my empathy, and my patience. These beloved traits are not ones that can necessarily be cultivated in any other way; these traits are forged in the fire, and I love it when I can see their creation.

I love that creation and beauty can come from chaos.  I love that it can come from an ugly ass hunter green apartment. I love that it can come from trials and tribulation. I love creation and beauty.

Do any of you have any experiences that sucked at the time, but that now you feel gratitude about?