Our summer has been overshadowed by the after-effects of a small house fire that we experienced in mid-June. Our dryer caught fire in the middle of the night, filling the house with smoke and triggering smoke alarms that jolted us from a deep sleep. Thanks to the alarms, the fire extinguishers we keep on hand, Thomas' quick thinking and our good fortune, we caught the fire just in time. Our entire house and outdoor bar area are made of wood, so it's a miracle that the house itself did not start burning, because that dryer was a charred hunk of metal, melting the linoleum floor beneath it.
Anyway, this small fire caused a surprising amount of mayhem. It took weeks for a cleaning team to take care of smoke and fire extinguisher dust damage, to have most rooms repainted and the linoleum flooring replaced. It was too much chaos in our home, making me realize the utmost priority (for me) is order, peace and lack of clutter in the home.
Well, in addition to the many lessons learned (less carelessness; more appreciation and caution), we did score new washer/dryer and new interior paint out of the stressful ordeal. I was happy with our old paint, but we had no choice but to redo most rooms because smoke apparently clings to flat paint. We had to make quick decisions on which colors we wanted for six rooms, and this in itself provided a whole new meaning to the word pressure. For days we deliberated, pondered, argued, perused paint sites and stores. I bought a couple of dozen paint samples for our bedroom alone. I wanted something fresh and uplifting. One day we were certain, then the next morning, waking and seeing the swatches I'd painted on the walls the day before, we would balk and wonder what the hell we were thinking.
This experience led to some interesting observations on color and the effect it has on our moods and states of mind--not just the actual hues themselves, but the names we give them, and the identities or ideas that we associate with them as a result. The various home interior industries have cleverly concocted evocative names in order to present even their most ho-hum colors in a more enticing manner. Of course this manipulation isn't lost on any of us, and for me has actually always been a source of fascination. The thing that surprised me was how influenced I was by those names, almost beyond reason.
For example, take our master bedroom. A very important room for obvious reasons, a space that is meant to be restful and sacred to our life together. A room of comfort, where we want to retire and be enclosed in the warmth of the perfect shade of pale amber or golden sand. The original paint was a neutral, very pale celery color--nothing exciting, but inoffensive, and soothing in its predictable sort of way. In other words, a color you never really noticed.
We wanted to warm things up and add some character. During the whole after-fire ordeal, I found myself continuously drawn to pinks. Anybody who knows me knows I am not a lover of pink; I never wear it and you'll find none of it in my home. But I kept thinking: aah, pale coral, soft peony, a hint of warm clay or fading sunset. I picked paint samples at Home Depot with names that imparted a deep sense of comfort or exotic escape: delicious names such as Guava Jam, Coral Serenade, or Florida Mango. It had to be just the right balance of coral-sand-shell-mango, closer to an earthy terra cotta (but pale), not too bright, not too rose, not too gaudy or girly or cheesy.
I have to admit, I was repeatedly more drawn to certain colors over others because of their names. The image conjured by Autumn Mist, for example, was so much more appealing than High Plateau. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't get myself to even sample something as pollyana in tone as Rosy Outlook or as little-old-lady as Antique Cameo. I tried not to be swayed by the names but couldn't help myself. I wanted to be able to say, "my room was done in Lush Melon." Was it my writer's ear that made me react so strongly to these names? My self-conscious blogger's voice? My overactive imagination? Or the fact I was under duress, desperate for a getaway, and needed to create more soothing surroundings? Probably all of the above.
And in the end, all of these colors were nothing more than pink to my husband's eyes. No matter how much I tried to skew his influence by calling a color Sahara Sun, to him it was pink. He just didn't want a pink bedroom.
So for the bedroom, we chose the same neutral yellow-tan that we painted the living room and dining room: Ripe Wheat (yellow is uplifting yet comforting to us both, it seems), and at the very last moment had an accent wall done in Chai Spice - which turned out to be a very appetizing burnt orangey, pumpkin pie color. (And, I love the name.)
By the way, if you are in the midst of having to make similar excruciating decisions about interior paint, I highly recommend checking out Behr.com for inspiration. Their excellent site lets you shop for colors and redesign virtual rooms with various color combos. Onscreen colors aren't the same as actual, but fun to play around with and get ideas. Just don't get too caught up on what the colors are called...
