Have you ever looked at a color for so long that you have no idea what shade it is anymore?
I’m painting our bedroom purple and I’ve been looking at the test swatches for so many hours that I can no longer tell which one looks like it belongs in a toddler’s bedroom and which one would look better in Buckingham Palace. Therefore I have no idea which one looks right in our bedroom—the place that I had the brilliant idea to paint a bold and modern hue but that I now fear will come off looking like a kindergarten classroom.
I also have a pathological anxiety that my design-savvy pals will come over to scope out the new paint job, tell me “it’s nice….” and then change the subject to how delicious their chardonnay is just to be polite.
I need help. And I need to recalibrate the color wheel in my head. So I went to the garden.
Our dogwood is in full bloom and it couldn’t make me happier. This time of year is magical in our yard—the pinks and greens are just so damn pretty that I want to perform an interpretive dance about them.
But the neighbors would gawk.
And I would blush.
And hide indoors until July.
I’m going to shut up now and let you enjoy the flora.
Clearly I have issues in choosing which shot to show you guys. What, you don’t like looking at two photos that are almost identical except for a few tiny details that only the author of this blog probably notices?
Fine, then. No more flowers for you.
I’ll always give you flowers because I love ya. And because I’m trying to bribe you into painting my bedroom for me.