"What shall I learn of beans, or beans of me?" —Henry David Thoreau
Last year I painted the interior of my apartment.
I scraped, taped, primed, and painted, and in between, I waited. And in this way, I came to know myself and the space I was living in.
I chose to do this work myself because of what the experience might teach me. I find that I am most alive when I am in the process of discovery. And for this stretch of time, my walls became the teacher, and I, the student.
It took me eight months, 150 yards of blue tape, 12 paint samples, 2 synthetic paint brushes, 1 large roller, 1 small roller, one dozen roller heads, 10 gallons of primer, 8 gallons of paint, 7 plastic tarps, 50 yards of kraft paper, 1 ladder, 1 metal scraper, 1 plastic spatula, 4 sheets of sand paper, 2 pints of spackle, 7 plastic paint dishes, four long weekends, four vacation days, countless hours, and two do-overs.
Each room became a new lesson in discovery, presenting me with fresh obstacles that challenged my endurance and ingenuity, and teaching me that the best adventures always lie in the unknown. That if we don't stay vigilant every day, pushing the boundaries of our world as we know it, we run the risk of assuming knowledge in place of experience, and watching life from a balcony rather than living it in the streets.
In a world of ready-made conveniences and help-for-hire, how do we fully appreciate what we do not fully earn?
