This is an ever-evolving story of a girl writer and her two greatest loves, the movies and travel. As she hikes the trenches of Hollywood, you're brought along for the ride.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

The Orange Wall

My boyfriend painted the dining room wall this screaming, blood-orange color about two years ago when he was shooting his feature film, American Actor
He said it made the wall “read” better on film.

Fine. "It’ll be back to a normal color soon", I thought.

Months went by. We never got around to re-painting… maybe it’s because we were redoing the floor and getting rid of the nasty carpet. Soon, two whole years went by--all the time, the orange wall stood.

Then, a strange thing happened… the orange wall didn't bother me that much anymore. In fact, when I really thought about it, I discovered, with some horror, that I actually kind of dug the orange wall. It’s different. It's daring. It’s not afraid to stand out.

I knew it was here to stay when I came downstairs one day to find a photo of Jack Nicholson hung on the wall. He’s got that quintessential Nicholson look on his face and he’s holding a match in his mouth.

I do my writing on a laptop in the dining room. When I procrastinate too long, I have the orange wall glaring back at me and then there’s Jack with that match in his mouth intimidating me into compliance.

Even when I’m having a bad day and I feel like fighting the wall and Jack with the nearest samurai sword because the words aren’t coming, I have to admit that although they’re both creepy, I like them. I don’t know why. For a solitary activity like writing, it’s nice to have some writing companions, I guess. Writers can’t be too picky for companions. I’m currently writing a suspense/thriller sort of story so, in that case, maybe Jack and the orange wall will help things along.

So, I’ve settled with the orange wall and its companion for now. It’s like the Lucille Ball of our home furnishings, if she were home d├ęcor in say, The Shining.

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