Lesson in the Arts~

The man says "Everyone has their forte'..." true. He's a painter, I'm a painter. And that brings us to the lesson of the white desk.

Now, this desk has a long and beigeish-gray past. It was college furniture that was left behind by my friend Donna's husbands college roommate, that they (Donna and Jerry) gave to me when they moved to Farmville years ago. It has been in the boys room ever since- a lovely piece 'straight from the Wal-mart plantation' that was covered in the beige/gray fake-wood grain sticky stuff. You know the type.

So I said to the manz, I said "I'll paint that desk! It will be white! And I shall paint the other Walmartish bookshelves to match! And all will be white like snow, like Mae West, like the fleece of a new lamb! It will be easy! I will do it in no-time with my sponge brush!"

And the manz, the manz he says to me, "Whatever you want honey."

The old shower curtain is down in the grass, I have the paint in the pan (he shook it and poured it) and with utmost confidence I begin to paint! After all, I *am* a painter! Right? So, I am flat on my back, painting away with my sponge brush that is not working quite as well as I imagined it to... and the lovely manz says, he says "Do you want the rug? Or for me to turn that over for you?" I say "Noooo... I'm fine!" paint paint paint.....

In the meantime, he has set up a lovely little rack and has swiftly accomplished all of the cutting and painting of the shoe molding. (I am still underneath the desk). We stop for a drink (it is about a 100 degrees today...) he has nary a drop of paint on him. I have paint on my hands, my arms, my clothes, in my hair.... and the handle of my spongy brush has parted ways with the sponge. Defeat.... he simply states "You know... a roller would be faster."...... yep.

So I proceed to ask for a lesson in painting. He shows me the proper way to charge a brush, use the roller without ending up with more freckles than I already have, and other tricks of the trade. He ends up painting most of the desk.... then I get hot and go inside... he paints the other bookcase.... I take books off the other bookcase and clean the bathroom (I am on the phone with Melissa) and he paints that bookcase too. Everything sparkly and well done, not a drip on the yarden grass, not a smudge on his clothes or hands. Nada. Beautiful.....

Everything takes all sorts of talents, and all talents should be appreciated. I tried, and in time I will learn how to do it better- I need to slow down, pay attention, play it straight when painting like this. I am used to fast and loose and 'painterly'- a righteous mess of a painter I am.

We call each other Felix and Oscar- He is Felix, I'm the Oscar. Somehow it works, the order and chaos, the craftsmanship and creativity, the spam and the tofu.