The Great Paint Wait
The kitchen changes started small, but late last night, they became more apparent with a fresh coat of paint. After 8 years of green, I still really liked the color itself, but it was starting to feel dated and wasn’t meshing with some of the other changes I have planned for the kitchen. Then, two weeks ago, we sorted through some of my top color contenders together and I landed on Benjamin Moore’s ‘Sheep’s Wool’ Aura Interior in Eggshell finish as the hue of choice.
But after painting into the evening last night I’m going to be honest, I’m really on the fence.
I kept standing back after rolling a wall and thinking, “Do I love this, or hate it? I can’t tell!” Of course hating the color just means slathering on a new hue later this week, but then I realized that this feeling isn’t new.
I always hate the color when I’m in mid-paint.
I’m always on the fence while in the process of painting a room.
It makes sense though. So many factors add up to create a terrible gut feeling of indecision – the way the paint goes on differently than it dries, the way the light hits it as it’s still partially wet, the way the trim and the walls don’t blend right away.
I can think back to every single room I’ve painted and remember a distinct mixture of excitement and terror in the middle of the action. I remember when I painted my entry way navy blue and I was convinced from the first stroke to the last that I hated it. Again, it was late at night, the lights burning low and yellow with the wet paint so much lighter and wimpier than my expectations.
When I woke up this morning, I had the ‘Feeling of Doom’ (which is something my sister and I say mostly about the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning the day after a drastic haircut and you’ve forgotten about the cut during your sleep and then your jolted back to reality at one look in the mirror). Anyway, as I made my way down to the kitchen, I had the same feeling. Was I going to love what I saw? Would it be just what I was envisioning?
As stood in the kitchen, drinking my coffee, examining every wall, every angle, I decided it was. It was absolutely perfect. It was subtle, yet the color still popped off the white subway tile. It didn’t even need a second coat (that is what getting really great quality paint will get you).
Of course not only do I love the kitchen, but every other room I’ve had mid-paint doubts about, including the navy entry. But there is just something about the process isn’t there? There is something about the first stroke down to watching it dry that is unsettling and exciting.
I KNOW you guys have had this experience, so I want to hear. Is there a room you painted that gave you this feeling? Does it always happen? Or do you know from the beginning whether you love it or hate it? I would love to hear your stories!
p.s. this photo was still taken when I had some light last night, so it doesn’t show the fully finished paint, but we’ll show it soon enough. Don’t you worry!
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