Some people just have to flick their fingers and a new cupboard is ready. Not just ready, but beautifully crafted with swirls and delicate patterns. Some can put designer things together in a way that makes others gasp when they visit their stylish homes. Some make artful cupcakes that provokes guilt when you take a sugary bite. You have the handyman with his hammer, ready to hit a nail anywhere and anytime. Or the carpenter who avoids a heart like I would get if I tried to figure out how that carpet will fit nicely into the corner. The perfect fathers, mothers or brothers who can create something beautiful in no time.
If you wonder, I am no DIY superwoman. When I touch something, no amazing patterns manifest themselves on the surface I try to transform. If anything, what happens is that some color blotches suddenly appear on the smooth, newly painted surface. I have no patience, too shaky hands and a picture in my head of how I want it to be, with terrible aptitude for getting it out there. It`s lost in translation, so to say.
Today I tried to paint the wall in my bedroom. Why?
Because some months ago, I hung a blue cupboard up. First I thought looked quite good when I painted it and put on laces and wall stickers. When it came up, I realized once again that my genial ideas should stay in my head unless I want to bring suffering to the world. I actually had to throw it away. I hope the garbage employees forgive me when their senses are insulted by the glaring colors and the too-sweet “always kiss me goodnight” pasted on it.
Back to the painting. When I took down the cupboard that just didn`t fit in the corner I had devoted to it, I didn`t take the time to hold it properly. Before I knew it some nail (that I should have removed) had scratched my purple wall and left visible wounds. For weeks I have felt irritated and lethargic because I am thinking about selling the apartment and know I can`t do that when my wall looks like a war-zone. But yesterday a friend invited himself over even if I said it was no use, as I didn`t think I would have the time, energy or DIY-abilities to succeed. He told me to stop whining, and arrived with a roll for the paint and paper to cover the floor (as I probably wouldn`t made the effort myself and probably would have peppered my new floor with purple splotches).
I was optimistic when we first started , but then came some glitches, like that the paint I had bought was far from enough. I had to drive to a new store where I managed to buy the wrong color. It wasn’t the tiny color, but I was too frustrated to do anything about it, and we started painting with the new color instead. Or, to be honest, he started, while I happily took care of the corners and brought coffee. I think he realized that I had to keep away from most of the painting to not risking ruining the wall one more time.
We managed to paint the wall in an hour. And here I had tried to avoid painting it for weeks because I simply didn`t have the fantasy to imagine that it might actually work out fine.
The next day he came back, and we started to paint again. But he soon discovered what I tried to ignore: We did not have enough paint. So he sent me out again with an exasperated sigh, and I had to speed-drive to the store to get more paint. When I finally arrived at the store, I went straight to the painting apartment and found a young employee willing to help. But that wasn`t easy, as I had no idea how he could produce the right color. I had to call my friend so he could send a picture of the label with details I needed and supplement it with the other piece of paper that I got the day before when I bought the first can of paint. The young paint-expert had to try to piece together the confusing bits of information. His solution was to stir some paint first and not blend it properly before I had looked at it. In that way we could be sure that I had the right color.
He started the blending process, while I was tripping because it felt like it took forever. 30 seconds IS a short time if you are inpatient like me. When he finished and showed me the result, I thought it was too dark, but wasn`t completely sure. I thought it probably would make it worse to start adding other colors into it, and said it had to do. I bought two big cans of it, which wasn`t cheap. Ten minutes later I was back in my apartment, where my friend almost had finished the whole wall. There was really just a small part of the wall left, and that annoyed me as I had bought two huge cans of paint. But what annoyed me more was when I opened the can of paint and saw that the new color was miles away from the other color. I wanted to throw the can out the window together with my head, but that wasn`t possible, especially since my overly positive friend said it would be no problem: We could simply paint the wall one more time! He also pointed out that the new color actually fitted the rest of the room better. He was right, off course. He isn`t only a handyman, but wise too.
One hour later, my wall looked much better, and I finally felt that the world was a good place to live.
Funny how things can change and become better, even when you think they won`t.