Friday, July 19, 2013

"terra cotta"

ter·ra cot·ta  n.  "baked earth"; clay used in fired unglazed ceramics
ter′ra-cot′ta, adj...a brownish orange 

...rolling on the paint, dipping and saturating the oblong roller brush at the end of a pole into a paint tray...exerting pressure with criss-crossing motion, using long strokes to fill in the rougher areas.  This is what we did to redo my previously dull atrium in my home to get the house ready to sell.  Whether it's a selling point or a drawback, it's ready for someone to do what they would like to do with it. Immediately green bamboo leaves contrasted with a pop against the bright wet paprika painted concrete floor.   It soon  dried to  a flat eggshell terra cotta colour;  a fan helps to move the warm air out while a cool breeze travels through the bright room.  A small old burner stove stands modestly nearby, asking the bougainvillea to climb up the wall.  There is pond where a waterfall softy recycles itself.  The Aloe Vera plant appears swollen, ready to use to heal a wound.  The camellia bush's shiny leaves and the cacti provide texture, as does a new colorful accent sisal rug.  It is a more vibrant space.... almost begging me to stay and enjoy!  Clearly, the indoor terrace has the ambiance of a courtyard in a casa en Mexico;  cozy, warm, and comfortable, with beams of vaulted air from above...and the color, terra cotta...I tried samples of tan, gray and red, thought of expensive tile or polished stones, but this was the best choice.  We repaired some rotted woodwork, painted the trim, washed and cleaned the entire area.

I'll miss the sound of rain on the sun roof....

Tiny Baby's Breath creeps through begonias and ferns.  It would be the epitome of tranquility, to  lye in a hammock or sit in a wicker chair with a good read, a bottle of Chardonnay on the table; I can almost smell from the kitchen a meal of chicken adobe, beans, rice, tomatillos and flan prepared by Frida Kahlo. I hear her ruffled long skirt swish as she makes her way to the brick oven, laughing voices, and I hear a faint guitar.....
.....o.,k....but back to reality -
Large drops of fresh dark red cement paint on my pants; oh well, I don't need them anymore anyway.  My hair, toes (I always go barefoot), arms, and hands bear thin trails the color of blood, as though I had fallen through a window and been cut by shards of sharp glass.  The hard work of refurbishing a room reaps its rewards of new possibilities; new ideas present themselves.  Already a small garden of ferns and a water feature, I add flower pots, a healthy new strawberry hydrangea tree and a zinnia.  Wa-la! Time to put up party lights and dance (sometime after the second coat of paint dries) and after the big garage sale tomorrow!  So for those who wish to know, I am still very busy here and unable to focus on my blog again this week.  Just so some know, I am hoping to return to it and writing as events allow me to. As they saying goes, there's a lot on my plate at the moment.  I have had many "looky- loos" coming to check out the house almost every day, but so far no takers.  All it takes is just one person - and perhaps a little negotiating ;-)

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All comments, constructive and otherwise, are welcome and appreciated here. Thank you to those who show an interest in my quirky style of writing, photography, painting, and presenting a feeling or thought and for stopping by A Dwelling by the Sea..