Sometimes when you think you have it just the way you want things you decide something isn’t right. You can’t put your finger on it but you know something needs to change. I’ve done this so many times in my home, my booth at Doc Holliday’s and my booth at Cameron Trading Company. I fix things all up and think I like it only to go back and look at it and think hmmmmmm this isn’t working. Sometimes it’s as simple as moving a few color pieces into an all white room or booth. Other times it’s a full-out change to the entire set up. Whatever the problem until it all works together I have to make changes to get it just right.
This past week I blogged about a piece I did for Greg. He loved the new/old redo stereo. No complaints from him what so ever. I on the other hand knew something wasn’t right but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was the white against the light gray walls, maybe I just wasn’t use to it yet or maybe just maybe nothing is wrong and I’m over thinking it. Nope, there was something not right with the way the color or lack there of on the front of the stereo. When I would step back or walk into the room I noticed the speakers way to much. They were over powering the stereo so much I couldn’t see anything but the speakers. I had to fix them and do it quick so Greg didn’t notice I changed it up.
I pulled off the metal mesh plate’s and repainted the area behind the speakers. I used Pure Pewter from the Chalk Country line. By doing this it made the speakers less noticeable. The gray was in contrast to the black mess so you could still see it in front of the gray. Once dry I popped the black mesh screens back on and TA DA! We have perfection at it’s best in my little world. Every time I walk into the room I get a smile on my face it seems complete now.
I worked hard on the stereo and thought I had it just right. The business of creativity is sometimes trail and error. Clearly this was an error moment for me. All is good now and so now I wait to see if Greg notices the difference or if I have to tell him.
