Plastered in the Bedroom

After a few weeks of living in a shroud of tarps, frog tape and clouds of dust, J. finished. The East Village has staked its claim on the Upper West Side, or on my side of the bedroom, at least. Painted in dark blue, the skyline is still masculine, but the dusty blue twilight above it softens the room. Done in a technique J. said was “Venetian Plaster,” the upper wall looks like marble and is smooth to the touch. At night, it bears a moonlit glow when we turn the lights down.

The focal point is the spiral church tower in the middle, a replica of the real thing that sits on E. 12th Street, a reminder of a defunct house of worship that now guards an NYU sky-rise dorm. We plan on putting pictures in the “windows” of the buildings, so we can act as peeping toms in our own bedroom.

What’s on his side? A rendering of Columbia’s sprawling campus and dome-shaped library…it’s coming along, just needs a more few hand-drawn touches.

It’s finally starting to feel like HOME.

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