I still have three Belfry wall panels to complete – this is one of them. There are four or five more that still need something on them, but I dare not begin anything new until I’ve got what I’ve started completed. Such is my life: for the most part – entirely half-cooked.
This panel started out slightly spooky and seems to have continued along in the same vein…. I wonder if I added sparkles…?
I started another wall panel in my attic cave… I began with the idea of a plain pink wall – pink representing “action” of sorts. I have a lot of stuff that I have to act on, and soon.
In the course of painting… well… I ran out of pink paint. Kyla had an epiphany, and began painting black curliques drifting into the pink. She took a break, and I picked up the brush. This is where I left off.
I plan on finishing up with gold edging and sparkly bits, because I like gold and sparkly bits. I’m a bit of a crow, I guess.
The “act on and soon” stuff is pending: a supplementary job – preferrably NOT of the retail variety, to make up for recent lost hours. I seem to have been suddenly and unceremoniously dropped to part time hours… the “suddenly” actually works in my favour… I don’t have time to worry about it. I have to do something about it, and do it FAST.
I now occupy the attic space that Kyla first commandeered when we moved up out of the one-room basement apartment we had shared for 18 months. She didn’t stay here long, a couple of months at most, before declaring the space to be too big (?!) and begging me to trade places with her.
It was another couple of months before I could bribe her into finishing the “Dream” mural she had begun on one of the wall panels. The walls are entirely made up of those panels you see… Ky had originally planned to paint them in a pastel-ish group of blues and pinks and browns.
The kid that lived up here before we moved in had decorated with bloody red handprints stamped on the walls, crayoned cartoon characters and a plethora of cuss words carved into the wood-shingled ceiling.
I can’t decide if it was the bloody handprints, or the secret door hidden in one of the wall panels, leading into a tiny crawlspace that freaked Kyla out, but I don’t care. I’m creating a spectacular, long-awaited Teenage-Heaven up here, beginning with Ky’s mural… which she kind of, sort of, almost finished for me.