I had quite a simple holiday project, really - buy some photo blocks (I got mine from Onblocks), choose some favourite photos, mount them and start a photo wall.
It's amazing the barriers one can put up for oneself... I would go in to them, but needless to say an array of equipment - blocks, photos, cutting board, stanley knife, protectant, isoporpyl, command strips, measuring tape etc - had inhabited my kitchen table since late December because of said barriers - and a large amount of holiday procrastination.
The job would get done in parts, as small impediments would crop up. Some in actuality, some in my mind. Like not having the right sized print, or wondering if these photos were really good enough to be on a wall... somehow seemed different to being in a frame in the tele.
Yesterday, I finally tackled the task of getting the actual blocks on to the actual wall. And this is when the curse of Robert Lewis kicked in.
Some of my known readers will remember Robert as an ex teaching colleague of mine. It is because of him that I have an absolute fixation about things on the wall being straight. Though his classroom displays were even more precisely arranged than mine, I did get teased for measuring the wall and cutting the paper to fit before starting my artwork with the kids, long after I worked with Robert. I have also been know to take down entire displays if they did not meet my own standards, and start over. How would I cope with doing a wall in my own house?
Quite well actually. Of course I measured before I hung the first one, but them my eye kicked in and if there are a few not-quite-perfect ones, they aren't too obvious. Chilling out in my old age maybe. Or finally getting the hang of Excellence versus Perfection. Or beauty in the eye of the beholder. All part of my continuing journey to realise it's OK to be OK at something, as opposed to having to be awesome, if it makes you feel good. Don't mind what every other bugger might think.
When I walk down my hallway, I am pleased. With my wall and with myself.