Harmony in Color

Wow.

There is something numbing and indeed mind-boggling about truly moving from one place to another. I mean literally, literally taking all that you know and love from wherever it has been, and putting it where you now reside.

Now, I do understand the poignancy and outrageousness behind my previous statement, but I must admit: at 22, I’m still a virgin. Well, as of yesterday (01 Sept. 2007) I was. I recently become a resident of 160 West 118th Street—right on top of the Park.

[Note: continuing this entry on 7 Sept 07.]

It has been a whirlwind of a week. Of course, it was even more of a storm leading up to the big move in—there were just so many damn decisions to make!! Design and décor decisions took top priority last week and continue to occupy most of my time, thought, and physical activity.

From the time I, well, we really, Roger and I, stepped foot in the door, I haven’t stopped. I immediately started painting. I didn’t have a choice. People have told me it is a waste of time, money, and effort, but on the contrary, I’ve found it to be quite the opposite. I find myself more and more allergic to white walls everyday which is the reason behind there being only one white wall in the whole apartment; and its not even totally white. I painted the depth of the window sills the same color as the neighboring wall…but you’ll hear more on that later.

For the past four years of my life I have lived in rented rooms. It was accommodation that could only be enhanced by artwork and not wall color. And if you fucked up the walls too much, you had to pay for it in the end (the reason my diploma was delayed getting to me this summer…wall damages in my room at the George. HA!) For too long my eyes were strained by the walls that surrounded me in my college rooms—be they beige or white. Thankfully, I was never too far from a painted place, be it Kimmie’s green and purple walls at 2 Gold or my house in CT. And now, now I have my very own place coved in color for my eyes and good company to enjoy.

When Roger and I first started talking about being official roommies, not just former residents of the New School Dorms (the GREATEST dorms on earth, by far, no matter what), he threw the interior design into my court; I’m not sure he fully realized what that might entail. Well, now at least he does. He laughed while telling my friend Laura who stopped by after our first weekend in the new abode about how he loves asking me where something should go because he doesn’t get a solid answer from me for at least 24 hours. And I’ll tell you, it’s true.

For the two weeks leading up to our move in on 1 Sept 07, I tossed and turned at night over how to go about choosing a palette. Though I knew what basic colors I would be working with (Green, Orange, Brown, and I was even considering Blue), it was the tones and shades, hues and saturations I was unsure of. But after much discourse and debate with my mother, I made my decisions for the wall colors in my very first, very New York apartment.

There was much to consider in this decision making process. Allow me to quickly describe the floor plan: It’s a fourth floor walk up; upon entry to your immediate right is the real live eat in kitchen (with a large window); in front of you is a hallway leading to the rest of the apartment; slightly after the kitchen entry further down the hall is an offshoot to the hall closet and bathroom; continuing down the brick lined hallway leads to the grand living room with two windows facing east, a dimmable light fixture and two spotlights for artwork on the brick; at the start of the living room is the first of two alcoves in the brick, both are set in eight inches and are white-walled, the other is at the end of the living room, where one would walk into my bedroom; therefore, clearly, the bedrooms are off the living room with my room having more exposed brick, another fabulous alcove, and a large, 42” wide window, complete with a fair sized closet; while Roger’s room has two windows and a very, very large closet. I’m sure you are stunned to learn that I took the smaller of the two closets. This was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had to make in my entire life, and you think I’m fucking kidding. It was practicality vs. aesthetics (wardrobe vs. décor). As you can see, I chose the eye pleaser, and I couldn’t be happier.

Because the brick plays such a dominate role in the entire apartment, and because it is not your typical British Red Brick, it was imperative to constantly consider the shades of brick while choosing wall color throughout.

Now for colors: the kitchen, with its tiled floor, light maple cabinets, and white appliances was vivified by a baked aqua on the walls. Now, I know what you’re thinking: You painted the kitchen BLUE?!?!?! Since when is blue a kitchen color (other than an accent) and what the fuck food is blue? Well, none really and rarely do you see a blue walled kitchen. But I went ahead with it and I’m just thrilled I did. Never in my right mind had I expected to chose a blue hue for anywhere in the apartment, let alone the kitchen. However, after I found and fell in love with an antique cherry table and six antique coordinating chairs, I was off in search of fabric to recover the seats. Low and behold I fell even more in love with a very rich, very baroque, very tealish fabric; of course there’s a nice taupey orange print to compliment on two of the six chairs.

The hall color for the entry and leading to the bathroom is a burnt sienna—its official name: Chai Spice. This color leads you into the living room and around the immediate wall corner, if that makes any sense. Looking into the living room on the back wall where the bedroom entrances are is a cocoa, Fudge Truffle. By placing the brown on the back wall, it elongated the space because dark colors recede, thus immediately enlarging space by illusion. As I mentioned earlier, I left the alcoves in the brick white. I did so for two reasons: Roger and my father both said they like the white with the brick, and also because the wall opposite the brick with the windows I decided to leave white and paint only the depth of the sill in Fudge Truffle. I did so for fear of shrinkage—not because the room was cold you sicko, but because of a loss of light. Though I still may go ahead and paint the whole wall.

So if you can picture it, you have one wall predominantly brick with a touch of white, and the opposite mainly white with a touch of Fudge in the sill (arguably, alcoves with windows)—balance indeed. Of course there’s art work in both alcoves and a shelf made and built by me pops and I. I won’t even get into the furnishings.

As for my bedroom, with its striking exposed brick, I went with a split pea color. It’s called Raked Leaves, which makes no sense what so ever considering raked leaves are typically brown, orange, or red. But I believe, and as color theory would prove, it is the absolutely perfect compliment for the brick and its grand array of color—it has reds and browns, tans and oranges throughout. I’m madly in love with it; no one else seems to enjoy it as much as I do, but I could give a shit.

Oh, and the floors are a medium oak throughout, except the kitchen and bathroom—obvi.

Sorry for boring you with designers talk. I could go on for days, but instead I’ll just explain why I chose what I did.

Each color was chosen from the same range on the scale. All were the richest or second richest color above the saturated sample. This therefore allows for the colors to work together, in compliment and in contrast, to warm or to cool the space they fill. Each room has a touch of the other room’s colors, thus allowing for everything in the apartment—its furnishings, that is—to be completely interchangeable without fear of clashing or mismatching. When working with limited space, especially NYC apartments, it is important to be able to swap, substitute, and mix everything as needed. Chairs will go from the kitchen to the living room in one evening, as will pillows from the couch to my bedroom. Since each color is from a similar place on the wheel, this also keeps the eye from being overwhelmed or startled by a sudden change of intensity in color or reflection of light. A harmony in color.

There is so much more that has gone into this apartment as well. The bathroom is white tile, halfway up on the walls outside the tub, so above it is a Carmel Latte—a richer, more copper brown. Roger painted his room in the color scheme of the NY Nicks: Silver Gray, Cobalt Blue with an orange accent. It’s so Rog. My Dad and I also built a room dividing screen, a Chinese Curtain really. It’s a dark stained frame with a sort of fleur de lis patterned fabric that has all the colors of the walls (except the blue, thankfully). This helped to create the sublet space in our living room. But don’t be afraid, there is still far more space in the rest of the living room than most city apartments have all together. And besides, everything is interchangeable, moveable and far from permanent.

I am truly in awe each time I walk into mine and Rog’s place on118th St. I just can’t wait for the parties, the people, and the memories. I’ve already got a few pretty ridiculous ones, and I’m sure they’ll be crazier highlights to follow.

It’s a New York City apartment; it’s been dirtier than Brittany Spears’ battered pussy and endured more change than W’s supposed developing and evolving Iraq war policy.

It’s funny how I talked about roast beef curtains and Bush in the same sentence…somehow, they just go together.

Cheers and I’ll see you in Harlem.