I repainted my living room over the weekend, which is labor intensive. The prep work is the hardest part: packing stuff up and moving it into other room so these two rooms looked like an episode of Hoarders, making several trips to Home Depot, or as my friend Cindy calls it, Home Despot, and assembling my supplies. The task of moving the large furniture to the center of the room and covering it with plastic sheeting so it looked like visiting ghosts was also necessary. But saturday we FINALLY had dry weather and it was warm enough to open windows and doors.
the Zen happens during actual painting when brush and paint roller make contact with paint. There is a lovely sentient experience to stirring paint. I love the viscosity of paint, and applying it to a wall. The gradual change to the environment, and how three quarters of the way you feel a new energy being born by the vibrant, friendly color. It's now a mellow coral color. (Behr color Caramal sundae. I stole the color from some friends dining room on Easter Sunday. I felt enveloped in friendly energy and bought a gallon the next day.)
Paint is a cheap and quick way to transform a room. I am sure it will help me create new poems.