Rorschach Walls or If These Walls Were Therapists

I once had a doctor, dead over one hundred years, tell me, through a channel, that I like to be surrounded by color because inside I am full of color. Well, thank you, doctor, I absolutely enjoy being surrounded by color and I will take your word for it about my insides. From that point on, I never made excuses about the brightly colored house I was painting, not even when the Sears deliveryman thought I was racist for "remembering" him until he saw my lime green hallway and replied, "Yes, I have been here before, I remember." Not when my friends think my husband is going to leave me because whatever project I show them is too colorful or too bold or too whatever they were implying. And certainly not when people try to talk me out of the brighter color and to consider something more neutral. No! Lime and chartreuse and shocking pink forever! See: my insides, bitches!

Once you paint black...

Not long ago I saw a photo on pinterest of a gray bathroom with a black mirror. I was mesmerized. I may have commented, "That's it, I'm painting my mirror black."

This weekend I found some black paint.

I should mention that it needed to be painted anyway, as Bee found a dental scraper thingie and scratched wolverine lines into the white paint.

As usual, I've created more work for myself as now the back of the door and the trim will be painted black.

It looks a little harsh in the photo, but in person it looks more chic than sharp and a lot cleaner.

Which makes the bulbs in that lame-o light fixture look hideous and old. If I replace those, I bet I'll want to spray paint the fixture a more modern color, white maybe.

If you give a Courtney some black paint...

Mobius strip designaturgy, my favorite.