Color Me Bold

I really don't think that "coloring your hair" means to streak it with various shades of primer white, Chilled Wine, and Wild Geranium.

I am not a neat painter.
I get it on my hands.
I get it on my face.
I get it in my hair.
Here and there, I get it everywhere. I do not like green eggs and ham. (oops, wrong story)

Yesterday, I got the ceiling painted. Not sure I will ever do that again. Of course, after I was done I discovered that, yes, we do have one of those pole extender things so painting a ceiling is easier. Sigh.

 I got the bottom painted in the chilled wine color. The first coat was spent with me wondering what on earth I was thinking of when I picked the color. Bold, really bold, was the word that came to mind. It needed THREE coats to get good coverage. Whew.

First coat. Yikes!

Amy, Heather and I painted the top with Wild Geranium. Today I will attempt to color-wash with Keepsake Rose. It is all such a dramatic change from the whitish color it was before. I am hoping it will all pull together with the border, curtains, linens, and floor covering. Right now though, I'm second guessing myself.

This morning, before getting back at it...

Sometimes change is welcome. Sometimes it is scary. Sometimes you just have to be bold (like the color!) and step out in faith. In my life, change is usually of the scary variety, or at least I make it that way. Not all change is by choice either. My choice however is what I will do with the changes. Embrace it? Push it away? Trust that the God who does not change will walk me through it? 

Until that moment comes, I'm not sure what the answer will be. I wish I could say I always embrace change with a smile, a spirit of adventure and a British accent (you know, like Agent 007), when really, I usually just want to hide under the covers. Be that as it may, whatever I do, I will certainly do it with streaks of purples in my hair.

Love,

Dianne