oil or latex

these past few days i have helped paint and thought of some metaphorical similarities between painting and life, especially relationships. as i approached painting, i got things prepped--putting tape along lines, finding a bucket to work out of but not planning. i don’t think <>. my skills are basic, so i don’t really think ahead as far as all the possible taping, cutting, drop cloth placement, types of paint, surface prep, etc. so i think i’m prepared and i jump in. everything is going fine (to my mind) and then i hit a snag. usually this involves spilling paint, getting it on something that shouldn’t be painted, or conferring with an expert who gives me insight into how i did things wrong.

then, of course, there’s clean up. i do my best to get the paint out of the brushes, but many messes that occur during painting are not fixable. i smudge the paint on the rug and call it good, or with my finger attempt to wipe off the smear outside the line. with more practice, i know i could improve, yet i also know i lack both the desire to perfect my skills as well as the inherent talent. often, i then feel dissatisfaction with the finished product because i know it could be better and i see my failure glaring me in the face.

relationships are similar. i apprehend people fairly quickly, and am, i like to think, generally correct. then i jump accordingly. yet, i lack some skills to really relate and people, unlike paint, are not predictable. so when the inevitable happens--a mess--i hastily clean up--apologize, take responsibility--and then, alone, vow to avoid the imbroglio next time (which, of course, is impossible).