Crazy about color

“I see colors like you hear jet planes” – Dave Eggers again.

Picking out paint colors reminds me a lot about life. Same lessons: go with your gut; don’t care what other people think; don’t over-think it. Lord I hope those hold true, because I just finalized my second (and hopefully final) order with Benjamin Moore. Other than white, here are the colors we are going with in our home (bear with the googled photos – we haven’t done much of the painting yet):

Steamed spinach. Oh I love green, and what better name for a kitchen! Have you seen Tree of Life? Brad Pitt didn’t make me swoon but the green color in the family’s house sure did. I don’t know the psychology of green (Mike made some snarky – and weird – comment about my obsession with life and fertility?) but I’m in.

Gumdrop. Also green, but in a bedroom.

Newburg green. It’s actually blue; that title is misleading. It’s soft and mellow and makes me want to fall asleep when I look at it. And that seems right for a bedroom.

Middlebury brown. In da basement. I’m generally not a brown person, but I think this looks good down in the cave. It’s sort of like nutella, which I happen to be munching on right now (with animal crackers).

Hazy blue. After a prolonged battle with Mike over a blue-green color that he insisted was green and looked like toothpaste, we settled on this (for a bathroom and laundry area).

Sandlot grey. Accent walls in the living room. I also have a fetish with grey. Reminds me of a mushroom. I am inspired by food apparently.

Black jack. I couldn’t find a photo of black jack, but it’s black black.

So in conclusion, I’ve realized the one common thread throughout all of the colors is that they all tend to be somewhat masculine (green, grey, black, brown, blue) except the pastel blue (which will go in the laundry area and that alone makes me feel gendered but I can’t rescind the order) and if it were up to me there’d be even more green.

I’ll post photos when I have actual ones of the paint in action. This is the type of thing that happens on evenings I have to myself (hours on Pinterest or a prolonged yoga practice that ends up with me sleeping on my mat, cat between my calves). I should be packing.

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