longview catharsis
in all my nearly-27-years wisdom, a couple of weeks ago i volunteered to step in and paint the condo that my parents are about to sell. i lived in this condo for 4 years of college, from 1999 to 2003 when i graduated into the worst job market in at least a decade and my brother took over. that condo was freedom. i had somehow managed to convince my parents that since they were nice enough to pay for my schooling, they should at least invest in some property rather than throwing money away in rent.so we traipsed all over austin until we learned of this unit not even really for sale which was the pet project of our realtor. we went to look and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. the whole place smelled like dog piss as the tenant who'd been living there a while had a huge boxer or maybe two and it was wall-to-wall highly absorbent carpet. but i had this *feeling*. there was a huge balcony which no one else had access to overlooking the street. it was gated and in the horseshoe style with pool in the center, à la melrose place. and the window light was nice and it had great vaulted ceilings, and i just knew this was the one. my parents agreed.
the main bedroom was probably 20 feet long with a closet at one end, and there was a sink on the other side of the wall. so we knocked down the wall, put in a small bathroom and washer/dryer where the hall sink and end of the bedroom had been, gutted the kitchen, picked out all new cabinets and counters at home depot, ripped up the carpet and put in an affordable saltillo tile. not only was i living alone for the first time ever, but i was living in my own place, where i was the master, with my own stove, my own fridge, my own shower, my own walls to decorate however i wanted and my own door that i could shut and lock and no one else could get in. in short, it was heaven.
as time went on and i got more and more bored by the cool colors we had chosen for the rooms (teal, pale blue, and lavender/periwinkle), i felt it was time for a change. my bedroom transformed to a metallic satin silver. then, in 2001, the large white area that served as living room/dining room/kitchen became too depressing for me. i had broken up with my boyfriend of two and a half years, my grandfather had died, and i had fallen in love with a poet who i never so much as kissed. when i came back from montana that august, having gained a fresh perspective and some new friends, i went and bought red paint. it was called "rapture."
i chose a marigold color to accent the space on one side and several friends and neighbors came out to help. it was glorious. we recovered my couch to coordinate and suddenly everything looked so much brighter. everyone loved it. anytime people came who hadn't seen it before, they gushed. so when my mom told me that it was time to paint over it, not only did i see an opportunity to make some money before i head to california, but i also saw a chance to say goodbye. to put to rest something that i started. and to clean the palette for someone else.
i started last wednesday (on independence day), took off friday for the task, and worked all through the weekend. on sunday, i finished the main room and was considering giving up for the night. i had started to tape in my old room when i heard thunder. and i knew then that i couldn't stop. i had once written a poem, right at the time that i was falling in love with the poet with the line "ink of night spills down the sky, tonguing the horizon pink, as thunder builds on the silver walls like untold stories." i needed to hear thunder and rain in that silver room one last time. so as it started to rain, i began the task of covering the walls with white, working along the corners and crevices with the window open as the rain poured violently from the sky.
i didn't finish that night and the rain only lasted an hour or so, but i relaxed my grip on a girl i had been, in a space that is no longer mine to experience.
