Ten days ago I did some painting.
I am sorry to disappoint you. It was far removed from fine art, although I looked like a real masterpiece when the work was done.
The medium: white interior/exterior PVA on one bedroom wall which has suffered the ravages of winter damp over the last three years, and on a wall under the stairwell outside the only window, which blocks about eighty per cent of my view at the most advantageous angle.
Of course, everyone gets excited about a brand new day. It is a blank page upon which the great history of the fabulous things you do in your life may be written! It is yours and yours alone at the start of every single day! What potential! What joy!
Until ten days ago, I had no idea how excited other people would get about my brand new blank wall!
By other people, I am referring to my family and friends who waft in and out of the third dimension where I exist during waking hours and to those who frequent the same not-quite-social-enough-network of my supposed choice.
Oh, they say, you should paint something on that wall. Some say flowers; something pretty. Others suggest abstract design, and describe the very thing they themselves should be bringing into this dimension.
I say I am thinking about it. I am leaning towards creating something in imitation of a particular blue and white Portuguese ceramic tile design (see yesterday’s post). As I say this, I know that in order for this to be achieved I shall have to do countless preparatory drawings. Originality in imitation?
I am drawing little squares in purple ink on a curled-up edge of a scrap piece of paper trying to conjure up a simpler idea, when a friend sends me a link to the most amazing online collection of photographs of such designs I have encountered to date.
As I click on the fiftieth photograph, I realise that this situation is getting completely out of control. I click on twenty more just to confirm my initial realisation.
Abruptly, I get up.
For a fresh perspective I go and look at my rented white wall and admire the fact that I managed to get white paint into every single little nook and cranny. Without exception, as far as I can tell – without my specs on.
That is good enough for me. For now.
Allison
That elusive pair of jeans 
If that plain white wall suits you, then that is what it should be. But if you yearn for azulejos the easy way, next time you have a little spare cash – am I joking? – take a trip to the tile shop or factory and buy some of the cheap rejects and a tube of tile adhesive. The stick them, like pictures random fashion, on the wall where the cement is not protruding. You will still have your white wall, still have your tiles, and the overall effect will be “rustic”. How does that suit?
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It could be the most creative way to sidestep the “preparatory drawing” phase. 🙂
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