For as long as I can remember, I have loved to decorate and RE-decorate and I have loved, LOVED color. Color. It makes me happy. The color of the sky. The color of my daughters hair. My son’s rosy cheeks. My Mom’s blue gray eyes. My pink Kitchen Aid mixer. Color fills me up. And the best news of all, is that life supplies me with an endless supply of Color.
WE moved often when I was growing up, and while I despised moving, I LOVED getting a new room; choosing the colors, picking wallpaper and fabrics with my Mom. And no matter where I have lived, from my 400 square foot co-op in New York City to our Old Country House, I invest a welcome amount of time is treating my home like a blank canvas, always ready to try something new. To try colors.
I have a couple rooms in my old country house that I have painted no less than 8 colors in 7 years. The tiny bathroom under the stairs. It has been at least 10 colors. I mean,why not? It takes about the time it takes to bake a cake, and we all know, baking is not my thing. Though eating is!
When my Mom passed away a few years ago, I needed something to do, to fill the void, pass the time, make that first year pass. So, beginning with my dining room which I painted Benjamin Moore’s Pink Cloud, and continuing over the course of the next 4 months, I painted every single room in my house. The colors reflected the peace I was trying to find inside, soft grays and grieges, pale aqua blue grays, and of course pinks. Here and there. As my children have grown and have taken over the house with all of their stuff, I find myself leaning closer and closer to neutrals, softer, less wow, less bright colors. I have enough pops of color in my art and in the items which populate my home.
|BEFORE – Phoebe’s room|
My daughter’s rooms is perhaps my favorite room in the house. We are about to re-do it for her 13th Birthday.