Untouched Specimen

Now that the apron project is almost behind me... (I thought I was going to be able to say "completely" behind me, but I just now realized I have neglected to send a bio of myself. I hate writing them because I always sound like I left half my brain on my pillow.)... Anyway, now that I have ALMOST finished the apron project, I must focus my dwindling energies on revamping my "studio". Right now my studio is one of the 1970's add-on bedrooms which is completely covered in wood paneling and built in features like this desk.

The pervading feeling in the room is one of a deep brown study. As in, it will put me in a permanent depressive state if I spend time in there. The desk is coming out!

Wood paneling on walls is one of my least favorite design features. In fact, it's an emotional nightmare. Interestingly, Max, who lives in the other 1970's add-on bedroom, has declined my offer to paint the paneling a more cheerful hue. He likes it just the way it is, he says. He has the same built in desk.

Ah. The blinds. Papery-fabric strips of beige. I already dislike blinds. Most blinds. (With only a few exceptions.) But this kind is in a little category all it's own: DESIGNED BY SATAN. (Just kidding. I don't actually believe in Satan.)

So there it is. Oh yes, and oatmeal colored plush carpet. Don't forget the oatmeal plush carpet. It's going to take a Herculean effort to re-do this room. Think I can do it? You will pass out in fear when you see the colors I've chosen. Nope, not turquoise and red. As great as the temptation was, I felt it was time for something wild and fresh. The great thing about paint, obviously, is how relatively easy it is to change if you make a dreadful mistake.

I will refer back to these pictures as I progress to reassure myself that I'm making good changes. And by the way, if Ken or Betty is reading this: it's no offense to you that I can't abide this room as it is for my studio space. What was fresh and interesting and timely for you to design for a living space in the 1970's is a painful trek backwards in my life to a time I have yet to embrace aesthetically. It's a generational thing. So don't be offended, OK? I give you leave to faint in horror at the sight of what it looks like when it's done. My blessings.