strokes of genius

on learning to paint from my dad

My parents hired a professional painter once.

Only once.

The work was terrible.

Ever since then, my dad has done the painting.

Every two years he paints the house.

He always seems to be in one room or another.

Nothing looks cleaner than a fresh coat of paints.

Nope,

My parents have never hired professional painters because my mom has had my dad working for him.

That mom of mine?

She shure has an eye for detail.

She appreciates flawless work.

And she doesn’t seem to tolerate anything that is off from that.

With a manager with such high standards, my father has become an exceptionally good painter.

Most of what I know about painting I’ve learned from him.

He always works with a wet cloth.

Whether he’s calking around trim or painting baseboards, he always has a wet cloth.

You don’t need to be percise, be careful but not so careful that it slows you down. Have a wet cloth to compensate for the mistakes you make when you’re being careful and working quickly.

Rolling out six panel masonite doors, I had my wet cloth with me.

The doors bottoms were close to the laminate floor.

How close can I come with this roller? How much do I need to slow down?

On three passes my rollers end brushed the floor twice. Quick as a squirrel outta the coffee grounds, I hit the smudges with my wet cloth. In an instant they appeared, a moment later, they were gone.

There’s no ‘getting better’.

It’s better to be more efficient with the inevitable mess shows up when you’re painting the house for your wife.

Remember fools: you’ll see the smudges and deal with them more quickly than anyone else notices.

Get painting.