Precision is not my strong suit. It never has been. I wish it were, but alas - I am all thumbs sometimes, including when I am painting a room. If you were to walk into this room and look closely, you would see a lot of little errors. Or maybe you wouldn't - but I do see them. It is the bane of my existence that I am both detail oriented and unable to execute a task without making some glaring, sloppy mistakes.
But! Look at this lovely room! The paint job is not perfect, but it is done. And I am incredibly happy with it. It makes the room feel more finished, and also it covers over the scuff marks that were making the white walls not-so-white anymore. The room feels cozy and calm. Even the cat seems to be enjoying it.
If I am honest, the imperfections in my paint job just fit in with the rest of our house. There are all sorts of little things going wrong, or that are a little off kilter (if not just plain broken and not fixed yet). It is a very lived in house. But my goal with my home has never been that it would be perfect; I want it to be comfortable. I want people to feel at ease when they come over. I got one of the best compliments of my life when I was told that someone who has been here, but who I don't know very well, declared my house to be beautiful and happy. Happy! I would much rather have happy than perfect or precise. I'm just going to keep on doing things the imperfect way that I do.
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