I grew up in a white painted house and just thought that’s what color houses should be. But now I’m growing older in a garden and have come to a different conclusion about what color the house should be: almost anything but white. White does nothing much to enhance or frame a view, especially a limited one – art gallery walls are rarely so stark. White objects hover in the dark and demand sunglasses during the day. I just couldn’t squint at my garden for another season. I hemmed and hawed over every color in the Ben Moore fanbook and finally settled on a couple in a fed-up-with-myself minute before going to the paint store (Waterbury green and Normandy). And of course I regretted my choices the instant I placed roller to plywood. But I didn’t have to second guess for long. For once I got it right the first time. The way the turquoise sets off the chartreuse of the new leaves is sublime. And it’s lovely against the red of the tumbledownbarn next door and even plays nicely with the neighbor’s banana yellow and brown split-level.
Three new-to-us windows, one in the shed, 2 in the garage/shop change the whole feel of the garden too. Vast blank spaces are now muraled in patterns of darkness and reflected light and Z busy at his table saw. The new perspectives visible from inside show almost more on the outside. –Which is saying something because being inside the shed now is a total treat. I might even decorate.