K asked me today if I ever get bored with colour. Well, it was because I went shopping for bedroom things and everything I picked turned out to be hot pink, parrot green and purple. And all of it complements each other beautifully. No, really. So I was describing it all to K and he asked me a question that I’d never thought of. “Don’t you feel like you need a break every once in a while?”
And that got me thinking. Like everything in my house is a fun colour. Hall drapes in purple, my favourite vase is in just the right shade of red, my bathroom tiles are bright yellow. And now my bedroom is a kitchy pink-green-blue-purple swirl.
(I know it sounds loud as hell, but it’s not ok?)
So I still haven’t answered K’s question to myself. Truth is when I am feeling sober and balanced, then I’ll whip out the beiges, cremes and whites to do up the place but that’s more the exception than the rule. But that’s only about the house. What about me? What do I do when I need a break?
Because I do.
All this rush of colour is indicative of another thing that I am about – noise. Movement.
I don’t quite know what it is to be still. And if I am there I am wondering why it’s so quiet and that’s noise enough.
It’ll be nice to be in a place that’s without the prospect of noise. Then maybe I’ll do my home up in beige, gold and white.
Ever notice how, invariably, people feel good when you tell them they’ve just said something you hadn’t thought of? How low is our opinion of ourselves anyway?