Yesterday, I spent several hours smearing paint on a wall in an attempt to make it look like something that will elicit "Awwww"s and "Gee Shucks" from those visiting the baby that's soon to be taking up residence there.
That's a pretentious way of saying "I painted a mural yesterday."
I'm quite happy with it, actually. Whenever I paint a mural I go through several distinct emotional stages during the process: relaxed, mildly concerned, blind panic when it doesn't look like I want, shaky resolve to persevere, and finally, relief. Yesterday, I settled on "relaxed" early on and stayed there.
The owners of the wall (and their six year old) love it so what more can I ask for?
(Side Note: the bubbles are on the plain side because, eventually, they'll be used as a spot for placing whatever pictures the room's occupant would like to stick there.)