self-interior, paint, mirror
It’s been a year since I came to England. When I first got a house, it was September when it was getting chilly, so I wanted the house to be warm. Fortunately, my husband’s fortune-telling house was a warm house with good heating. Although it is a small house if it is narrow in one room, it is still a grateful house that provided a space for a fresh start.
But there was one thing I didn’t like since I first came to this house, so it was the mirror that was attached to the bathroom. It was a rectangular shape with a mirror inside a window-shaped wooden frame, but it was so old that it was hard to tell how old the mirror was.
On Saturday morning, the wind blew and the rain kept coming and going. I thought it would be hard to go outside because the child was coughing. Then my husband came out of the laundry room with a round can.
“Shall we paint?”
A white paint canister was hidden behind the washing machine. Uncle Andre, who is in charge of repairing the house big and small, left it.
“Mr. Andrés, you have a good sense.”
“Why?”
“The original paint is slightly different in color, so it’s right to leave the rest of the paint in the house after work. That’s how you can match the colors. I think Andre put it here for another use.”
“Oh, really? All the white ones are different?”
“Everything is a little different.”
My husband, who majored in art, gave me various information about paint. In addition, my husband used to live in Munrae-dong with a close brother in the past, and he said that he had even painted himself.
“That’s when Junhyuk and I both threw up after painting with oil paints.”
“Why?”
“Watery paint smells fast, but it’s really tough and shouldn’t be made with indoor paint. You two really almost died then.”
“Oh, so this is Mercury?”
“Yes. This is Mercury, so it dries quickly. Shall we give it a try?”
“Okay!”
I started my work with my toothbrush, which was drawing paint on a small palette and was nearing the end of my life. Cleared the dirty marks on the white walls of the bathroom, kitchen, and living room. At first, I couldn’t control the amount, so I applied too much paint and it kept splashing everywhere.
“Honey, it splashed here. How do you do it?”
“Yes, it’s all erased. Don’t worry.”
Sweep, swipe.
“Honey, it splashed here, too. What should I do?”
“It erases there, too. Wipe it with a wet tissue, and it’ll wipe quickly.”
Sweep, swipe.
After applying a moderate amount of paint on the left and right sides, it spread thinly and cleanly, and the paint did not splatter.
‘The point is quantity control.’
I learned the ropes little by little by little by myself and fell into it. It felt good to paint the dirty part without thinking. Feeling “this is the charm of cleanliness given by white!” I painted it hard, forgetting even a little bit of the sour smell of paint. It was so much fun because I was doing it alone, not someone talking to me, nor hard work to think about.
“Honey, I think I’ve found my aptitude. It’s so much fun.”
“Haha, really?”
“Yes. This is totally my style!”
So while I was painting the wall and walking around, my husband took the mirror in question and went out to the balcony. It has been making it easier to scrape and repaint surfaces with hard scrubbers (which would be nice to have sandpaper, but instead have no sandpaper). We teamed up and painted together. When my husband, who is well aware of the ingredients and properties of the material, gave me instructions for work, I painted it like an activist leader.
My husband said I had to dry it with a hair dryer after painting it. After drying, painting, drying, and painting so many times, the messy mirror became clean. There’s a bit of bumpyness, but, well, it was pretty good to give off a European vintage feel.
“Don’t worry about the paint splashing on the mirror. There’s also a way to get rid of all this.”
When the painting and drying were finished, the husband brought the blade of the cutter and scraped the paint off the mirror like an expert.
As the mirror became clean, I hung it on the wall of the bathroom again and tied up the lavender I bought when I went on a trip.
“Wow! It’s so neat! I love it!”
“Yes!”
“I should have done it. Isn’t that right?”
“I know.”
As the mirror became clean, I wanted to look at it one more time. The white mirror didn’t whiteen my face, but it was as clear as it brightened my mind. I wish I could reflect on the time I had left untidy, white and cleanly changed mirror, and reflect on myself more white and clear.