Have you ever thought about what heaven will look like? We decided last week it looks like this niche. This is the kind of thing that makes me happy. It blows my skirt up and floods me with thankfulness because I am so blessed to be able to work and make money doing something that beautifies the world.
While beautification and transformation are the underlying principles in practically everything I think about, it's not that way for everyone. Sometimes we get clients who just want faux finishes because the people down the street have them, or because they saw them at the Parade of Homes. We do the amazing job and they're happy, but not in a profound way. It's more like: "Okay, I can check that off my list."
But other times, we suggest color changes and make improvements that change the way our clients actually "feel" when they are in their homes. In this house with the heavenly niche, our client was absolutely ecstatic about the glorious changes we were making in her home. She thanked us profusely, and meant it. She was the most joyful person: funny, genuine, thankful. She was a blessing to us!
Back to the heavenly niche: You must know it was a collaborative effort. My very talented angel painter friend Mary Hulin started it by skimming out the monterrey drag texture (blek!). Monterrey is just hell on fine faux finishes, but Mary made this niche as smooth as a baby's bottom. Then, a day or so later, with my neck in a permanent right-cranked cramp from the dining room ceiling, I begged to do the plaster. A straight-ahead niche was a welcome break.
It has become our new favorite finish.
Across the way, this is the dining room ceiling that right-cranked my neck and later wiped Mary out. Here's the before:
Poor little boring thing is just begging for something to be done so it can stand out and shine! You know this upgrade feature wasn't cheap and so far wasn't living up to its potential!
And after! So pretty and elegant. And worth all the paint, plaster and aggravation.
If there's a moral to the story here (and isn't there always a moral to my stories?) it has to be this: Please go find your special purpose. Whatever blows your skirt up. It may take you the rest of your life, and it isn't going to be easy, filled with nothing but peace and love and puppies. But I promise that if you look and listen you will find it.
Next up: a dreary little bathroom that has become an embarrassment.