This is my mantra as of late.  I’m trying to be decisive about the colors to paint my house.  It should be easy, right?  Maybe, but maybe not.  I’ve learned recently that there are a lot of factors to consider.  I’ve also learned it’s easy to get caught up in the minutia.

First color. So many colors. More than ever before.  Over the past ten years, paint companies have become quite sophisticated and broadened their perspectives.  The last time I painted my house, the choices were definitely more limited.  There were the appropriate colors to use and that was it.   There were a few breakthroughs along the tropical lines, but mostly the palettes were sedate.

It’s exciting and beautiful to experience all  of the new pigments and I’ve found myself diving into color psychology.  Color has the ability to conjure up emotions and create ambiance.  I’ve been noticing that most houses are pretty sedate.   I’ve done some research and experts recommend that you blend in with your neighbors and not disturb the neighbor with distracting colors.   I’ve driven through countless neighborhoods to derive inspiration from the available palettes.  Some neighborhoods are quite colorful.  People using color liberally.  Bright colors abounding and calling out like colorful jungle birds. One colorful neighborhood in particular was colorful neighborhood in a historic downtown where people collect antiques and hot rods.  The culture here is patriotic and fun and a celebrated university is nearby.  Some other neighborhoods are subdued and tasteful. The colors make sense and blend seemlessly with the environment. This sensible and clever neighborhood was another historic university town. But the University here is private, well established and ranks beside schools such as Yale and Harvard. The top minds in the world gather here to be trained.

I live on a alley, so what is my environment? I have black pavement lined with green bamboo. Some broken fences, occasionally garbage, an old shed with a two tunnels running under it. One of the tunnels is  used by my cat, possums and squirrels and the other tunnel is inhabited by lovely bees.  My house is historic, a teacher built it and loved it.  She built a house for her sister across the street and there used to be a well worn path between the two. The houses were painted white then; as all middle class bungalows were.   Should I stay true to the era and history or go for something new and entertaining?

Probably not.  It wouldn’t suit the tastes of modern America where we have a myriad of choices for everything.   Not saying that’s a bad thing.  It’s all part of the process of advancement.  Evolving as Darwin would put it.  So where are my Darwinian inclinations taking me to?  To all kinds of colors and wishing I could use them all. I have at least three favorite themes; western, tropical and psychedelic, but probably western is the most acceptable for a house built in 1916 in a quiet family neighborhood. So this would lead to browns, tans, greens, reds, blue and maybe patriotic purple. The choice is there and I’m warming to it, but it’s not like the first time I chose a theme for the house. The first time, I was trying to bring out the best bungalow characteristics of my bungalow at that time. I was trying to incorporate elements of history while making a new statement.  For the green, I chose a deep forest green.  It represented health and growth.  A great color for that stage of my life, when I was raising two children and working on my career. I had four colors to create with rather than the standard three. I chose claret red, a blush tone and white for the other three. I tried to choose colors that struck a chord with earth elements. I ended up with one earth color, the green.  Bungalows were conceived as a new form of dwelling that was simple, practical and closer to nature.  The bungalow lifestyle was to inspire health and honor are connection with the earth.  Wood moldings and flooring were the major elements and the outside siding was often not painted and the wood stained  As America grew and prospered, painting became the trend and if you could afford a tinted paint, you were declaring your affluence.

The question is, should your house color really be some personal quest to reflect your personality? Or should it just be a practical process that’s not emotional in any  way. It’s funny  how some of us would never really think to deeply about a house color choice and then those of us who analyze, ponder and consider endlessly.  I found myself kind of tortured by the whole thing, which is such a contrast to how I felt about picking house colors a decade ago. I used to be excited by the idea and was very sure of myself and the statement I wanted to make to the world.  I wanted  to make my little craftsman, the best restoration possible on a single mom’s income.   This time; having lived through aging, menopause, children growing up, going away, getting married, family deaths, sickness, a tumbling economy, the emergence of the internet, a war and significant changes in the fabric of daily life, I found myself questioning a whole lot of things that didn’t even have anything to do with painting a house.  Somehow each color would stimulate my thoughts and my brain would be off on a jaunt contemplating the ways of the world and my place in it.

Photo by Talles Alves on Unsplash

Finally, the process was wearing me out.  I decided to drive through more historic neighborhoods and just pick a theme that looked nice and that I could picture myself going home to everyday.   Once home,  I looked everything over and then cut swatches from the paint store color wheel.  I  picked colors that felt good and would blend harmoniously with the neighborhood and nature.  I decided to pick and stick no matter what. My stomach churned and my throat muscles clenched.  I did some deep breaths and convinced myself this anxiety was ridiculous.  I smiled my brave smile; my everything is always OK smile.  I conjured up my family member’s voices in the back of my head, coaching me and telling me I could always paint over it and start over if it didn’t work out.  I buckled down and picked.

The next day I handed the colors over to my painter with my deepest apologies for my indecision and delay. We went over the scheme and where the colors would go.  They were kind.  I played it cool.  The deed was done and I prayed secretly that I’d figured it out.