The Library Pt. 2

I started with the first windowsill, using a small putty knife & sanding block to slough off the chips of paint. Next came wood puttying all of the holes, allowing it to dry, then sanding everything smooth. I caulked around the perimeter of the window & any gaps that remained. I looked over my work. Better. Two more windows to go.

The following days, starting clockwise from that window, I began working on the walls. I realized quickly that the two strips of wallpaper that had come off easily before was not how the rest of it was going to be. My rose colored glasses began to wane. What have I begun? We already have a demolished bathroom to work on. I continue though, devoting snippets of time in the morning to it.

I wedge my putty knife under the wallpaper & lift, continuing that motion until it eventually breaks free from the wall, patches of paint come off along with it. While I’m somewhat horrified to see the extensive spackling job I’ll have to do, the colors relieved underneath are a fascinating time capsule of what used to be.

The paint is so old, it reminds me of dried ovals of a forgotten watercolor set. Compressed, pigmented powder. I run a fingertip over it & it covers my skin like eye shadow. It bleeds with the slightest bit of water. I swipe a damp cloth over the wall and it combines the yellow, blue & green into one murky smudge.

I decide to try without water. I use the putty knife like a scraper, gliding it flush against the walls. Flecks of blue & green sprinkle the floor like confetti. Again & again this motion is repeated between pulling off swatches of wallpaper. 10 feet up, I glance down at the mess below and keep going. Little by little, I expose more of the plaster walls with the years of layers whispering their story. Bits of yellow, continents of green, oceans of blue span the room.

Time disappears then, it’s just me & this space – these walls. The past & present colliding with what was, what is and what will become.