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April 20, 2010

It’s one of the first things I do when I move house. Turn on some music, climb a ladder, and paint myself a new space.

I didn’t have to move this time. I almost didn’t. I was a little bit afraid. The rooms seemed too spacious for me, too tasteful and grown-up. Too much all my own. I’m not used to having two bathrooms to myself and cutlery that I know for sure is mine. I enjoy my privacy, but the last time I tried this, it nearly smothered me. Who is this paint for?

I have made more friends in this town than anywhere I’ve ever lived. I’ve found a community of people who know how to reach out to loners. I have a friend who shares sharp-edged secrets in a musical voice. I have a friend who wears awkwardness like an elegant dress. I have a friend who is so cheerful it shames me into laughter. I have a friend who cooks me food just in case I’ve forgotten to go shopping. I have a friend who is carrying his solitude across a desert. I have a friend who is always here, even when she is all the way over there. And I have a friend who is beautiful in ways I can’t fit into complete sentences.

I should switch on my new cellphone and let these friends know how much I love them. Instead, I hum softly to myself, climb my ladder, and spread colour across the walls.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Blair permalink
    May 31, 2010 7:38 am

    And you have a few other friends over in this over-populated province who think about you and wish they could see these painted walls, wanting to make sure you are still well and happy :)

    Tell them, because life is too short to not. Plus love, even in it’s friendship form is super contagious :)

  2. June 12, 2010 8:47 pm

    Ah, I do tell them. I was just feeling a bit pensive that day.

    I am well and happy, thank you! Very much so these days, actually. I hope you are too, my friend. :)

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