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I’m a nutcase about color. It’s an endearing little quirk of mine, unless you happen to live with me. Thennnn it can get messy. I remember living in our newlywed apartment with boring walls, telling my husband it felt like a white-walled prison. (He’s used to me saying this stuff now, but back then he’d look at me like, “Who ARE you?”) I have definite thoughts about every shade. It translates into my photography, for SURE – I prefer to edit each and every image individually and painstakingly, rather than batch ANYthing, making sure the color saturation is exactly the shade I want it to be in each and every portrait. But, I’m also color sensitive in my daily life, too. When we moved into this house, the living room had an ugly, dark green accent wall. It was such a depressing color to me. I think it was a flat finish, which made it even worse, but I felt trapped in a cave each time I looked at it, too. The kitchen had a burnt orange accent wall and that too was ugggggly. Actually, MOST of the colors the previous owners picked – and no, I don’t feel bad for shamelessly bashing their color choices – just… made me ill.

Their child’s room was a pale sickly green. There is nothing pale or sickly about Annabelle, and it just didn’t fit. That room eventually became my newborn studio and it’s now a neutral color that thankfully doesn’t make me sick just by looking at it. We painted Annabelle’s new room this weekend, and she picked a princess pink. (Of course.) We talked a LOT about colors beforehand and she repeatedly said that her favorites are blue, green and purple, but that her room should be pink – specifically, the shade of Princess Aurora’s dress. Okay, then.

Now, I felt nervous about this because, well, I’m a nutcase about color, as I said above. The wrong shade and I’m all but shivering with revulsion. So we went to the paint store and I picked a few princess-y hues, allowing her to make the final selection. At the last minute, in a rare moment of thoughtlessness, I threw in a warm pink shade that resembles bubble gum, and not surprisingly, she picked that one. I think I immediately broke out in a regretful, cold sweat. But no, she was sure. This one.

Gah.

My husband, well aware that when it comes to color choices, my opinion isn’t just an opinion but a life-altering, emotionally-charged EVENT, resolutely stayed out of the color selection process. He was merely the slave labor…er, “talent.” So… this weekend we (well, he) painted her new room, and of course I made the mistake of viewing it after dark and with the garish light of an overhead fixture.

Bad idea.

I resolved that we HAD to pick a new color and repaint the next day. My husband, the “talent,” said no way. After gnashing my teeth and obsessing about how Annabelle would feel about the color, I asked her what she thought the next morning. “I LOOOOOOVE IT!” Hmm. Outvoted. Still, I kept discussing with my husband that Annabelle might feel uncomfortable in a room with so much bright….bubblegum…pepto-bismal…pink. And he finally said, “Honey, I’m pretty sure our four-year-old doesn’t have any PTSD concerning the shade of pink that SHE picked out.” Oh. Fine. Throw around medical terms.

However, I took another look. This time with natural light, and giving it a little time to dry. And I guess it’s not so bad. I kinda like it. I actually LOVE pink… but, of course, it has to be the right shade. Ahem.

You get to see this random and ever so pink angle because it’s the only part of the room where the painter’s tape has been taken off so far – we’re still letting it dry! And now I get to obsess about the new color of OUR bedroom… and the hallway bathroom… and the rest of the kitchen… even the kitchen cabinets. Oh, and my new office. It’s a good thing my husband is a patient, patient man.

blogged at http://www.blessedlifephotography.com/blog

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