Zen and the art of...painting walls
It's tedious and boring so why do I feel like I just had a great therapy session?
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This isn‘t the post I was supposed to be writing this week. If you read the last post, you’ll know that in celebration of ten years since the publication of my first interiors book Modern Rustic, I will be releasing a video on each of my five books, from my most recent CREATE back to Modern Rustic, sharing some anecdotes and insight from the making of each book. And these were meant to begin publishing this week.
But the thing is, what I’ve actually been doing for the past couple of weeks is painting. Not painting lovely florals in my studio to sell in my shop, nope. Painting doors and door frames and ceilings and shelves and a tiny and awkward to reach toilet/shower room. Not nearly as fun! Filming videos of myself talking about my books whilst in my painting clothes with smears of yellow emulsion on my chin wasn’t going to work. So I focused on the painting instead.
I currently only have a couple of shoots on the horizon and unless something really juicy comes along, I don’t plan on doing many more for the rest of the year so that I can devote all my time to getting my house in order. A privileged position to be in because of a stream of excellent shoots my company worked on all spring and summer long.
I’ve carved out this time in order to bring our house to the point where it feels more complete (and where the bedrooms don’t look like a cross between a squat and student housing). For the first time since we started working on the house almost 18 months ago, there are no tradesmen drilling or plastering or plumbing and there won’t be any for the foreseeable future. A triumph, let me tell you! That doesn’t mean the house is done, but it does mean the undone bits are do-able by me. I can’t install steel beams or windows or showers and I’m not interested in learning how to tile or plaster or wire electrics. For those jobs and many more, I happily paid the professionals. But I can paint.
I could afford to hire a decorator to paint and they’d probably be a lot quicker and tidier and would swear less than me. But with this particular project I’m choosing to spend wisely. With unexciting but necessary and expensive jobs still to be done - like replacing the asbestos gutters and fascias/soffits and building fences around the house - I’m saving the rest of the budget for the remaining jobs that I definitely don’t want to do myself.
And I think that’s how you have to look at certain renovations. Of course, many people will work with architects and contractors and have a job done entirely to completion by trades people. But for that to happen, you need to know what you want at the beginning, for the most part anyway. For me, this house is experimental. It’s a way for me to be creative and test myself and my ideas. I definitely did not know what I was going to do with this house a year and half ago! This way of working isn’t for everyone, I get that. And there are days when I wish I’d had a clearer vision at the beginning. But interiors and their design and evolution is also my job, so I just think of it as homework.
So, painting. It is tedious and boring, but it’s allowed me to listen to some excellent and inspiring podcasts which I will list at the end. And it has also forced me to slow down and be patient, things I struggle with daily in my job as a set designer and as an overactive ‘do-er’. Painting prep is the absolute worst - the taping and the protective sheets and getting all the bits ready and the many trips to the garage because I forgot the brush/paint/stirrer/roller. And cleaning all the kit afterwards! Is there a worse job in painting?
But if I’m going to do it, I’ll do it right. No-one else will snoop inside the bathroom cupboard and check if the paint lines are clean, but I’ll know. My (extremely successful) uncle taught me years ago that no matter what you’re doing, do it the best that you can, even if it’s sweeping the floor (or painting inside cupboards).
I know I have at least a couple more weeks of painting - next I move onto the mezzanine floor and woodwork and then various bits of furniture - and despite being frustrated by this knowledge because of other ‘fun’ decorating jobs I want to move on to (like sewing curtains, sourcing lamps and artwork, writing more consistently on here, making more videos for here and social media…) I also know that there is an order to things that works best. Just like when I’m designing a big photo shoot for a client, you work from big to small. There’s no point making curtains for a room that first needs to be painted. There is no point in organising the pantry (yes this is fun to me, I’m a stylist. I happily arrange things for a living) if it first needs to be painted inside.
The other thing that painting is good for is letting the mind wander without it becoming stressful or anxiety inducing. When I’ve chosen silence over podcasts or music, there have been moments of zen like mental stillness, the kind of elusive calm and thought-free moments we seek through meditation. And there have been moments of excitement and enthusiasm as ideas for future projects begin to emerge, if not fully blossomed, then at least in seedling state.
In my introduction video I spoke about this nagging feeling I’ve had for a few years - a feeling that I have so much more to do and to create; that I haven’t come close to reaching my full potential, but I haven’t known what the thing is. I know there is a thing or many things I’ve yet to do, but what is the thing, someone please tell me! Unexpectedly, painting walls and doors has created a little shift, a move closer to clarity. The rest of this year is also about allowing myself the mental space to think about what I want the next chapter of my career to look like, something I’ve been longing to do - and part of the reason for starting this newsletter - but I haven’t had time for.
Last week, as I slowed right down so I could focus on painting the perfect fine line where a rich green and a plaster pink paint meet in the new little shower room, I still didn’t know what the next thing is in the grand scheme of my life and career, but I suddenly had a sense that if I kept doing what I was doing, I would figure it out. If I kept moving forward and doing what needed to be done in this moment, at this time in my life, instead of always trying, trying, trying for what’s next, ‘the thing’ would reveal itself. I felt deeply that if I let go of the outcome and kept living with intention, it would eventually lead me to the next chapter and that felt good.
I like to have a plan, more so now in the strange years of peri-menopause where anxiety flares up if I feel out of control. But I also don’t shy away from change and risk. What I don’t like is not knowing what I want. If I don’t know what I want, then how can I make a plan to get there? But the past couple of weeks have reminded me that what I currently have - fixing up another house, living by the sea, having financial freedom - is ‘the thing’ I wanted a few short years ago.
As always, thanks for reading. Here are a few things I enjoyed listening to while I painted followed by some photos/videos of painting in action.
Podcasts to paint to
Design Matters with Debbie Millman is such a fantastic podcast. Debbie has been interviewing creatives since 2005 and her discussion with legendary record producer Rick Rubin was excellent. As well as his storied career, they spoke about his book The Creative Act: A Way of Being which I’m excited to read. Something he said about creating art and fighting the fear of putting it out into the world really resonated with me:
“Lower the stakes and think of the thing you’re making as a diary entry. The work you’re making doesn’t define you for the rest of your life. It’s a moment in time”. - Rick Rubin
This Cultural Life on BBC Sounds. Host John Wilson - whose calm voice and thoughtful line of questioning are lovely to listen to - speaks to Sir Matthew Bourne about his journey to becoming one of the world’s most successful living choreographers. I enjoyed hearing about how when he auditioned for dance college relatively late in his youth, he’d never taken a dance class in his life, but his obvious love and knowledge of the craft - he’d seen every ballet and musical possible - won over the admissions board. Then ballet and dance chat also reminded me of seeing the film The Red Shoes on television when I was maybe six and being deeply moved - possibly the first time a film made me cry.
Young Again with Kirsty Young. Her episode with British actor/writer/MOVIE STAR Daniel Kaluuya was illuminating. He was of course brilliant in Get Out and Queen and Slim but I hadn’t known that as well as acting on the drama Skins, he was also one of the show’s writers. When he was in primary school, to get back at a teacher who didn’t believe in him, he entered a contest to write a play, and won. That’s the kind of success revenge I can get behind.
Desert Island Discs with actor/writer Adrian Edmonson. My two big brothers were huge fans of the 1982 comedy/sitcom The Young Ones which I was definitely too young to watch at age seven, but watched anyway. But I didn’t know much more about Edmonson’s life and career, aside from his long marriage to the brilliant Jennifer Saunders of Ab Fab fame. He won me over by having Petula Clark’s Downtown and the Dixie Chicks Wide Open Spaces on his shortlist of tracks he’d take to the island. They’d likely be on my own list as well for my own reasons.
Lastly, I leave you with this episode of Lives Less Ordinary, a podcast I’ve just discovered that delves into the extraordinary stories of ‘ordinary’ people. I found the story of university professor Dr Katriona O’Sullivan to be deeply moving and inspirational. And a testament to the impact great teachers can have on the lives of children. O‘Sullivan was raised by addicts and could’ve gone down the same path through no fault of her own, were it not for the care of two teachers. I dare you not to sob when she is given a pack of clean days of the week underwear by an observant primary school teacher…
For next week maybe I’ll listen to the audio book of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, whose title inspired this post’s name. I either read it or tried to read it in college so maybe it’s time for another go.
In case you’re interested, here’s some of what I’m achieving on my ongoing painting/spiritual enlightenment journey ;)
And a peek inside the painted guest loo/shower. Hanging artwork is still on the to-do list as you can see.
And yes I’m keeping the walls as is, at least for now. In all my books I write about my love of contrast - here the contrast of the creamy yellow and the raw walls makes me happy, especially once the rest of the room is sorted and there is enough luxe to balance the rough/squat vibes. Like what you like!
I really resonated with this because I feel the same way right now. I am so un settled creatively and can’t figure out why! That’s good advice to just slow down and live.