An Allegory for the Art of Painting

Painting is taking much longer than I expected. As I removed the masking tape from the trim last night, aglow with pride and the expectation of a good night's sleep in my own bed in my own room, I discovered that the tape had leaked, allowing runs of (India Ink, semi-gloss) black paint to mar the (Chalk, eggshell) white walls every few inches. So now it seems I will have to do some scraping and touch-up. Urrgggh.
Also, I've been doing some painting work for the school, changing the color of some flat files and display shelves for the supply store (for the princely sum of $10 an hour, roughly 10 times what I make for my work in the Pines; I think I've already earned enough to pay for my first tank of gas). By odd coincidence, the shelves will be the same color as the trim in my bedroom (but satin finish). By lunchtime today, I began to feel as though I was really becoming pretty competent with a paintbrush. Nonetheless, I think this experience seals it - all natural or patinated finishes on my work this summer.

Shhh, listen...

Spring Concentration has come to an end. All the students and instructors have packed up and gone home, the kitchen is closed, and with our short work-week behind us, most of my house-mates have gone away on vacation, leaving me, Joshua, and Shane nearly alone on an empty campus. I had forgotten how quiet it was when I first arrived here (on my first morning walk, I was afraid that I had gone deaf until I realized that I could still hear my feet on the pavement) and now I'm remembering in a big way. Last night we sat, waiting for Tina's spaetzle to finish cooking, with the windows open, savoring the sound of the birds and the occasional passing train. I'm looking forward to a relaxing week. I should be getting my car back tomorrow. I'm planning on doing some major reportage about the spring here on the blog, but first, I'm going to finish painting my room, reacquaint myself with the Nintendo 64 (courtesy of former Core John Shearin), and take a nap. If you're within half a mile, you should be able to hear me snore.