Sadly, after most of the living room was painted, I decided that the look of the lighter paint was not nearly as sophisticated as I had imagined. Whether it was the color, or the play of the lighter paint with the rich burnt chestnut hue of my woodwork - the room suddenly looked dead.
I believe that rooms, homes in fact, are alive. They carry the spirit of the person who lives there in the present, the many that may have lived there in the past, and often times (when we're oh so lucky) the integrity of the planner, builder, architect who decided that this house deserves this land. It's mildly philosophical, and not generally my practice - but I do believe that houses speak to us, and they cry out in glory and in shame. That creamy beige had my house yelling: STOP IT DAMN IT!
So I did exactly that: stop, and I sat down in one of the leather chairs and studied the room. Immediately I went to dig through the basement until I found the can of Behr's promenade paint that I had kept for emergency touch ups. Thank goodness it was there! Now - more painting and an extended timeline ... though while I work my behind off, enjoy the glory of these great green rooms: