|The wall is now almost completely covered -- these pics are from a long time ago.|
Anyways, the process of painting this wall was great. I invited friends over -- we would drink, listen to records, and paint -- and it was a fun time. I never got around to finishing the wall, however. It was such a big project and I had other things going on.
Well, I moved out, whilst reassuring my mother that I would finish it eventually. And, surprisingly, she didn't mind. She thinks the wall is "cute." She likes showing it to company when they come over, exclaiming to them, "Isn't my daughter wild?!?"
Now that I've moved out, my parents have a guest bedroom. I'm assuming that it's not a pleasant place to stay. If I wasn't used to a giant tiger face and a super-sized Twiggy staring at me in the middle of the night, I'd freak out.
So, my parents do have a lot of company that stay there now. My mom likes it. In fact, she likes it so much, that she came up with the wonderful idea of painting a square with chalkboard paint. She said that she wanted to write reminders for her guests on it (i.e. "Breakfast at 8:30 AM," "Extra towels in the closet," "Don't be alarmed at our hideous carpet," etc.) I thought that it was a fabulous idea. I mean, I could doodle and erase to my heart's content whenever I'm over, right?
This "square" has turned into a GIANT block, splat in the middle of the wall. It ruins the whole thing. Not that I should care anymore, because I don't live there, but I really do care. That wall was my baby. I spent years working on it. David Bowie is secretly present all over it. And I'm sure he'd cringe at what my mother has done.
She's written Bible verses on it. With chalk.
Not only that, but she's ripped off the painter's tape because she was "impatient," and has left giant chunks on missing paint on my wall. Giant chunks of my heart.
Here are some glimpses at the great times that I had with my wall -- that I'll never get back.