I still haven’t put many pictures up on the walls. Every week-end I assemble a collection of images, hooks, and my cute hammer with the blue handle. But just as I’m about to put the nails in, I stop. I hem and haw. I hesitate. And then I decide that I’ll wait a bit longer. Now I’m beginning to feel pretty comfortable with spare white walls. Yes, sometimes it does verge on some kind of facility or Ashram, but is that so terrible?
As a renter, I was reckless and wild with a hammer and nails. Anywhere, anytime, I was happy to put multiple holes in the wall. Measure? Nah! Re-do? No prob! The sound of plaster crumbling deep in the walls caused nary a shudder. But once you’ve patched, sanded, primed, and painted three or four coats of paint on a wall, it gives one pause.
Here’s a heartfelt apology sent out to all my former landlords! Forgive us renters, for we know not what we do:)