A wooden cover for ventilator has been sitting in our garden for a couple of years. Brown is always a safe choice of colour for furniture, I reckon. I never dislike it, and it, too, tends to be my ultimate choice; nonetheless, the natural tone of the wood is, to be honest, never very exciting. Between having fun and playing safe, even though I had been brewing over a revolutionary idea against K's reservation about loud colours, no action was ever taken.
Summer and vacation are two factors that would lead to changes.
I spent an entire day last Friday painting it blue, a careful choice of mine, Virginia clock blue, which provokes a sentiment of nostalgia. My amateurish skills with paint and my obsession with perfection plus the weather made the project too full of details to complete early. Yet, the first large-scale DIY was done without much hindrance at the end of the day.
The new color is adorable, and this adventure with visual effect has allowed the reformed furniture to resume its presence in the summer garden in harmony. It is quite likely that I will never try to paint any large furniture again in near future due to the great labors and time that it would require. Yet, it is also true that the experience does give me a moral to reflect upon in response to the current state of my life. My prolonged hesitation about this DIY task had yielded no result but endless longing until a decision was made and action taken. This summer I am also in the turmoil of pondering over possible changes in career, struggling with the two things that I am least good at: letting go and moving on. It is a decision between safe and risky choices, between banality and adventure, and it is self-evident that something more ambitious and brave has to be done so that I am able to enjoy life and work. Yet, the indecisiveness or the fear of making decisions poisons my heart.
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