Painting my kitchen: It sure isn't art, but a lesson in humility

Painting, Pablo Picasso said, "is just another way of keeping a diary." 

Vincent Van Gogh, a preacher's kid, like me, declared that, "painting is a faith, and it imposes the duty to disregard public opinion."

Let's face it; they were both at least not of this world, if not just plain crazy. So, there's that. And if they were talking about house painting, well, certifiably insane.

I sing of the paint brush dripping, not the body electric. (Sorry, Walt Whitman). But this is my brush. The kitchen of our condominium, its paint faded and spattered from past cooking experiments, is the "canvas."

But even if I had the skills of a professional interiors painter, this would not approach art. One coat should have sufficed, but then there were the drips. So, there was the second and third coat. At least the prep -- sanding and taping -- kept the new paint (mostly) within bounds.

Ah, you should have hired a professional, you say? Sure, the result would have been better, no doubt. But if you are retired, $1,100 to freshen up a kitchen just doesn't convince.

So, a second or third coat, whatever it takes.

That's how I roll. Which actually is more to the point. I should have rolled the paint on, my wife shared (with a bit too much glee, however subdued), not used a brush.

So, this is me, watching paint dry. And thinking I just may have to roll, if I want to rock this project.

Another lesson in humility. We Eastern Orthodox Christians are told one can never get too much of that.