I demolished another part of the living room wall last night. Dust from the sander covered the furniture and cats in a white coat of drywall and pushed everything out of focus for a moment. Some people have spring cleaning. I have winter reconstruction.
After lighting a fire, breaking out the tequila, and wiping down the cats, I surveyed my work. Well, one thing is true. I am certainly talented at making a mess. Muddy columns now run the length of the wall passing through two previous paint jobs and a floral band, hidden like a girdle behind brown and gold wainscoting visibly shrinking the already strangled circumference of the room. This messy transition stage is where I am most uncomfortable; especially knowing the hours of work still to do, but it is where I can see the most potential.
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