You might recall a couple of days ago, when Maria told me she didn’t want to paint the bedroom with me, she wanted to do it alone. That was the Hypothermic Maria, as it turned. The post-Hypothermic Maria didn’t remember tossing me out of the bedroom, of course she wanted to paint the bedroom with me, she said.

I took this all as a creative thing, she just had a vision and needed to do it. That might still be true, but things move fast around here, and we are in a different dimension. Life with an artist is really not like life with other kinds of people. I love that about our lives, there is little space between our life and our work. Maria is not a simple person.

I agreed to rejoin the painting, and went to finish a blog post, and went I went up to the bedroom 20 minutes later, the room was done. Freud would have fun with this. Maria works like Wiley E. Coyote when she’s focused, she’s kind of a blur.

She has recovered from her nasty bout with hypothermia, she even concedes that she had hypothermia, which is a big step. And on top of the thousand other things she was doing, she finished painting the bedroom. I did help, before the Hypothermia.

And I like the new soft and warm colors. Maria has done an astonishing job reinventing the interior of our old farmhouse. It is full of color and warmth. A cold story with a happy ending.