Tag Archive | Paint

Me and My Drill

I had a summer goal of re-doing the screened porch. It was even written on a post-it note, which is as good as set in stone.

Summer goals.

Summer goals.

It didn’t happen. I know summer isn’t over yet, but I feel the end barreling down on me like an oncoming train. School starts early this year, and August is just about here. My goals are as good as dead.

I stared down the list of un-done projects and thought: “The bathroom!” I can paint it during nap-time, one wall at a time, and it really is in need of attention.

This is the beginning.

This is the beginning.

The ceiling was stained with old water damage and the walls were a refreshing minty green. Perfect for a “York Peppermint Patty” commercial, but not really the look I was after.

I borrowed a paint sample of Benjamin Moore’s Museum Piece from my friend’s recent dining room project (view it here) and tried it out in my bathroom. It was gorgeous against the tile and I decided to use it. I painted the ceiling Benjamin Moore’s Antique Glass, which is greenish-blue, with the shimmery look of sea glass, to add a pop of color.

Ceiling done in Benjamin Moore's Antique Glass.

Ceiling done in Benjamin Moore’s Antique Glass.

I wrestled some time out of the days and got to work. I found a wire shelf from France at a consignment shop.

A wire shelf.

My French wire shelf.

I hung a different shelf, that I had bought at Lowe’s at least four months ago for hanging towels, on the opposite wall.

Me and my drill.

Feeling very studly.

I bought a shower curtain and rod to hang in front of the shower doors, both for privacy, and to conceal all of the plungers hanging out in the shower. When your husband brings home the softest, thickest, most luxuriant toilet paper money can buy, you will have at least one plunger hanging out in the shower.

Hiding the plungers.

Hiding the plungers.

There is a gaping hole, between the vanity and the wall, that I refer to as “the pit of despair.” This vanity is on the hit list, but not just yet.

The pit of despair.

The pit of despair.

The bathroom is much improved. I am always amazed at what a little thrift store art and paint can do to spruce up a space.

View from the hall.

View from the hall.

Mixing the finishes in the art gives the bathroom a European, carefree attitude. I love that! It is totally unexpected. Assembling and hanging a shelf on my own? Also totally unexpected. And nap-time? Nap-time is a glorious time of day around here.

© copyright 2013 Mariam d’Eustachio at Simply Turquoise.

The Great Wall of Beltsville

My wall started as a collection of black and white photographs. The very first two were from a photography studio in England and given to us as a wedding present from a dear college friend.

The photographs have grown to fill up the space over my sofa. Each photograph has a story or represents a place that I love. The grouping has pops of red here and there and in the center is not a photograph at all, but a chalk drawing of a Thai dancer done by my great-grandmother. The unifying factor is that all the frames are black. Together, they make up the “Great Wall of Beltsville.” I can almost hear the “Great Wall” shouting at me, each picture telling its’ story over the other, like children vying for attention.

I have balanced the “Great Wall of Beltsville” with a single large photograph across the room. It is a way to add calm and to quiet the room. The scale of it alone commands attention and the x-ray plant radiates some sort of photosynthesischic.

Grouping art together can evoke the feeling of a gallery. The center of the group should hang at eye-level. I love the way my collection stands out on the painted orange wall. If you want a more formal look, hang the pictures symmetrically, side by side, like in this grouping from a Starbucks.

Art is complicated, but in a good way. It is versatile and can change the look and mood of a room. It can enhance your style or help create contrast. A group of art with a similar thread tying the pieces together can be more cost-effective and have just as much impact as a large-scale piece.

© copyright 2012 Mariam d’Eustachio