I don't know what happened. I think it's this thing I have of desiring, needing, craving change and not knowing what form it must take. It's a desperation of knowing that whether I like it or not, I am in Los Angeles and I need to make the best of it. Whatever it was, I woke up and I said, "David, we must paint the apartment." An hour later we are blundering our way through paper paint swatches at Home Depot and feeling artistical, tired, and snippy. We took home some obscenely bright colors and began the attack on the walls. The original goal for the living room was plum, to compliment our blue velvet couch. Many, many hours later I looked up to find I had turned my living room into a Gay Pride parade. It is purple, and I mean P U R P L E. Now I've got pots of red, orange, and blue paints for the other rooms and I am Scared. I have never had color on my walls before, not ever. It's so...bright. And there's this thing I have, of leaving something the way I found it. It's evidenced in my never taking stickers off products. This is where David comes in. He takes the stickers off of everything. He is my perfect balance. I'm not big on details, and he is Detail King. So, I made the broad, heavy strokes, and he taped every non-paintable crevice, touching up the spots I left behind. I changed my environment, instead of my environment changing me. I feel strong and strange and excited.
Almost got cast in a film this weekend. Felt good. At least doors are cracking open, even if the chains are still latched.