I have been having very vivid dreams the last few weeks, it might be because I am not sleeping well or maybe my brain is just trying to tell me something but last week after painting my room I had a very strange one.
When we moved into the house we had the advantage and disadvantage of having every room painted in a neutral color scheme. It is an advantage because it is move-in ready and it goes with about everything you own. The disadvantage is with this neutrality you are not really in any big rush to repaint with the colors you would like. I almost wonder if I would prefer moving into a house with ridiculous colors just so I will feel the urgency to paint and claim it as my own. Painting is a bonding thing with me. At our last house I painted every room at least twice and got to know her every last nook and cranny, I found getting to know her made it a lot easier to care for her. With our house now I feel like we have quite a ways to go, so I decided a little team building activity was in order.
My study was taupe. The previous owners were using it as a playroom for their three kids, but I wonder if it was actually one of their bedrooms before they decided to put it on the market. It’s a funny thing for me to think about, that children played in this room. Though it is a relatively new house there are some ghosts around (don’t get me started on our bedroom). When I first saw this room there was a tea table set up, a raceway for toy cars, a doll house, stuffed animals, and as I discovered (painfully) a little action hero sword hidden in the carpet. After painting it and being really up close to walls I discovered that the room had last been a light/semi-neonish green. I think we stumbled across this color in modern nurseries when the sex of the child is unknown.
Since we were in such a rush to get settled in while Firefly was here I put my stuff up on the walls and kind of forgot about making it my space. I thought I could just ignore that the place didn’t feel quite right and focus on the world inside my laptop. The rain delayed my desire to paint, then the summer heat made the idea of opening windows seem unthinkable, then we got Hitch and my room turned into a temporary sanctuary for him. I would feed him in here so Bailey couldn’t bully his dinner away from him or if he just needed some quiet time. For a while it worked, but then Hitch realized the door doesn’t close completely and he got out whenever he wanted, leaving his half eaten kitten food available for Bailey to pig out on. So then I moved Hitch’s feeding space to guest room, where the door does latch closed. The room was mine again! And I hated it. My mood was off in there, the paintings didn’t seem to fit the space, and I couldn’t arrange my small pictures in a way that I liked.
Some people can handle taupe, I can’t. I was going through some other things in my mind about identity and who I was going to be here (post for another time) and I came to the conclusion that not everything about me had to change just because I was in a new place. I happen to like some things about my old self and wanting to paint rooms non-nuetral colors is one of them. So going with the theme of reclaiming some of the old Melissa, I painted my new room the color that my old office was back in San Diego. I love that blue (Behr: Observatory), something about it makes me feel so happy. Like in San Diego I painted three walls blue and kept one taupe to reflect the light. I might paint the taupe wall white to reflect more, but for now it works.
I could even put up the smaller pictures in a way that makes sense to me.
So back to the dream (I promise to be brief because I don’t like dream posts either). I had this dream a few nights after I had painted the room but had not put anything back in it yet. In my dream I was living with a multi-generational family that was not mine, but we somehow all lived in the same house. There were around nine of us and I had just painted the room that I was told would be mine and strangely enough it was what my office is now. What a coinkydink! 😉 I was just about to open the door to my new space when George R.R. Martin stepped in front of me (I must have forgotten George was also part of this large family) and said that the room was not mine, that they were going to give it to one of the irresponsible adult daughters that was living with the family. He told me she had a start up business (which I remember thinking was a bad business venture) and needed the space more than I did, that I did not deserve this room.
Ouch. You cut me George, you cut me deep.
When I woke up I realized the not too subtle subtext of this dream. Let me just say I do not know much about George R.R. Martin, I have watched “Game of Thrones” and have his books on my “To Read” List. I want to read them but I hear they are like crack and I am not sure if I am ready for a new addiction. All I know about Mr. Martin is he is a hard working, successful writer and I’m sure he is a sweetheart in real life. I am guessing that in the dream Mr. Martin was my inner mentor telling me to stop dicking around a start writing again. That in my mind my room is not really an office unless I actually do some work in it. So I will start writing again before some other writer mentors start haunting me while I sleep. I don’t want to have to deal with a pissed off Hemingway or an irate Angelou!