(10 hours) #33 Painting SLEEPY Boring Objects (Jason Newland) (13th January 2023)

Hello and welcome to Sleepy Boring Objects. My name is Jason Newland. My website is jasonnewland.com. Please only listen when you can safely close your eyes.

Now, the point of this podcast is really to just talk about a specific subject which allows you to relax, maybe even fall asleep if that's what you need. It's quite an unstimulating recording and in some ways it's very similar to my Let Me Bore You To Sleep podcast, except it's a bit more focused. And when I say a bit more focused, the Let Me Bore You To Sleep podcasts are probably the least focused recordings there could be, which is fine.

It's just how they are. So this is more focused. So today's topic, I'm going to talk about painting.

Painting, and not painting as in painting pictures or artwork, but just painting, decorating painting. Just going to go back through the years and talk about my experiences of painting. Now, I must admit, it's one of my least favorite things in the world.

Not a big fan of painting, really not, generally. So, but I have, it's come from experience, it's come from having painted a fair bit. Over the years, and I just, this wasn't for me, really.

Wasn't something that I wanted to have as a career, or even a hobby. I mean, DIY is not really something that I've embraced as a hobby. I mean, I'm talking about DIY in the sense of home improvements and things like that.

So, trying to think the first time I ever painted anything, probably was about nine. And me and my family, did I say only listen when you can safely close your eyes? I hope so. I might have said it twice.

Whoopsie. So, I was about nine, and me and my family moved into this house. It's a very old, old, dark, smelly old house.

I'm not sure if it was smelly. I just added that for effect. But it was very, very run down and old, very old.

And the tree in the garden was about 7000 years old. In fact, I think it was from the Garden of Eden. Honestly, it was very old.

Lots of apples. And I, I remember it wasn't so much the painting, I remember it was the peeling of the wallpaper. I remember standing on a ladder, because back then I was so short, I needed to stand on a ladder just to reach the window.

And I was peeling the wallpaper off with a scraper and water, your water to soak the wallpaper and then the scraper to scrape the wallpaper off. And one of my memories is watching Monkey, TV show called Monkey, on an old black and white television that was in the corner of the room while I was doing this. I mean, admittedly, I was more listening to it than watching it.

But the actual painting, we all kind of, were involved in the painting of the different rooms. Now, back then, they used to, I mean, I thought I should mention what wallpaper is. Because some people might not know what it is.

You might think, well, it's self explanatory. It's paper that's on the wall. Yeah, but it's a bit more than that.

So back in those days, pretty much, I'm guessing everybody had wallpaper, you know, maybe patterned, flowery, all kinds of different wallpaper. We got rid of that stuff from the wall. I can't remember, I think we had more like wood chip wallpaper on the walls in the living room, stuff like that.

But in my bedroom, I had this, it was like wallpaper, but it had this little bits of chip in it. Like, I think it was wood chip wallpaper. But it was quite nice, quite nice to peel and pick out.

Especially around my bed, it was just, I used to pick them. And I remember painting the walls bright yellow. It was almost like sunshine, like an early morning, summer morning, all year round.

Yeah, I had to wear sunglasses when I went to bed, because when I woke up, it was too bright. So it was, it was, I liked it. I liked it.

And then after being in that room for probably a couple of years, I painted what I didn't, it wasn't just me, we did it, you know, me and whoever else helped. Well, actually, it was me that was helping. And painted it light blue, which I think was probably better.

It was a, it was a more, less bright than the yellow. But the window was quite good, because it was fairly big. And there was nothing obstructing it, not really.

So once the sun rose, you know, the sun was coming into the bedroom for quite a few hours during the day. So it's quite nice. So that was kind of my first, I don't have a like huge memory of doing it.

But I know I did. I know I did. Because we all got involved with the painting.

Unfortunately, that's kind of why I didn't like painting because I didn't want to do it. And I just didn't like the feeling of the paint on my hands and very messy. It's very, I didn't, I didn't have an aversion to being messy.

But I like to be messy on my own terms. You know, I didn't do want to be messy with paint. Because it's just I didn't like the smell of it and just didn't really like it.

The next time I painted anything, you know, I painted quite a few things during my childhood, up to the age of 15. Various different rooms over the years would like be all huddled together and time to paint like, yeah, brilliant. But that, that kind of phased out a little bit in the last couple of years of my adolescence.

And then when I got my own flat, when I was 16, I was living above a chip shop. And I got some paint, I think, I vaguely remember getting some wallpaper. And it was all uneven.

It was a right mess. But I just, you know, I did it anyway. And I didn't really know what I was doing.

But then I painted the living room. I'm not sure if I painted the bedroom or not. So that was that done.

And then the second I think after that, I think I might have helped my dad with a bit of painting. When he moved into a new house. Well, it was an old another.

He lived in a quite a new house. Up to the age of when I was about 19. And then he moved into another dilapidated old bungalow that was falling to pieces.

And he basically rebuilt it. So I helped, I think with a little bit of painting there as a minimum amount. Because I moved, yeah, because I wasn't, I lived with him for about a month or so while he lived there.

And then I moved out, because I'd come back from London for a little while. And then I can't remember if I did any painting. Pretty much didn't do any.

No, I didn't do any painting. Really at all. Until probably, when was it? Yeah, I got a job in a comedy club.

And they were refurbishing the club and I did a lot of painting there. And for some reason, I quite enjoyed that. I suppose, you know, there was no pressure and I was just left to get on with it.

And yes, I did a fair bit of painting there. And then, what happened then? Told you it was going to be boring, didn't I? I did a painting. Oh, I rented out this place below a gym, when I was going to do therapy from that place.

I was going to do hypnosis. And I repainted the whole place, this big room. And then I basically ran out of money.

So I just left it. I had to sort of give my notice and say, you know, it's not working. I can't really afford to do this.

So they ended up with a nicely redecorated room. So that was that. And then I didn't paint anything for quite a while.

And I got this job in a charity. And I was just going to be a receptionist, part-time. This is while I was counselling.

And the weird thing about it is that they moved into this new building, where they would need a receptionist. Again, another really old building. I was a receptionist and I didn't I didn't mind helping to move stuff into the new building or whatever.

And, you know, volunteering my time to do that. But then I wasn't even asked about painting. I was just told, make sure you come in with your dirty clothes on because you're going to be painting the walls.

I was like, what do you mean? And I really didn't, I wasn't happy at all for that. I mean, ask me, but don't just tell me because I don't like painting. And I didn't sign up for that.

And it wasn't the best start to a new job, really, because I would never take a job as a painter or take a job where painting was even involved in the job. Even if it was like one wall a year, I wouldn't do it. I just don't enjoy it.

But, and I actually said no. I said, nope. And yeah, it wasn't, probably wasn't the greatest start to a new, new job ever.

In the end, I kind of did help a little bit with the painting. I helped with moving stuff in and, you know, furniture and that, but really wasn't what I wanted. But then I think when I moved in here, in this flat where I'm living now, my dad helped me with some stuff because my dad's an electrician.

So he, well he's retired now, but he helped just to check all the electrics and stuff like that. And he's good at home stuff, you know, things like putting up shelves or putting up, I think he put up a coat rack for me, put up a, put up a towel rack in the bathroom. He put another towel rack in the kitchen.

He also put a, like a little cabinet thing with a mirror in the bathroom. I don't know what they're called, bathroom cabinets, I guess, I suppose. So I did that.

I had that and there was painting to be done. And when I moved in, I actually got a token from the council for paint. So I got some free paint.

And for some reason, I didn't actually mind. I think that was because to the first time in my life, I had my own place. You know, this is my home and it was, yeah, I felt a bit different about the whole thing.

I mean, I wasn't doing somersaults or, you know, dancing around, break dancing, spin on my head or anything with excitement at the idea of painting. I don't recall writing any poems about it. However, you know, I got the paints, but I did put it off.

I did put it off a little bit for a couple of weeks, but I knew I needed to paint before the new carpet comes before, you know, was laid down. So this is probably two weeks, maybe three weeks after moving in. And I fell out of the bath and I broke my wrist.

So I wasn't really in a good place to be able to paint. It's quite fortunate really. So I did a little bit of painting, but my dad seemed to take over.

And apart from the skirting boards, there wasn't really a lot of painting necessary. A couple of walls was always needed. The rest of the walls were fine.

They were white walls and, you know, they pretty much were okay. So that was it really. I didn't really, yeah, it wasn't much else to do.

I'm not sure if I painted the windowsill, like inside, the inside part. I think I might have done. I think I'm pretty sure I did.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did paint the inside of the windowsill. I don't mind painting wood.

And that's a weird one, isn't it? Maybe painting wood or varnishing wood. That seems to be a bit more, I don't know, satisfying maybe than a wall. I'm not sure why.

It's weird that I have this memory of having a big roller and the paint on the roller and rolling, you know, up against the wall and stuff. But I don't recall where I did that. I just have the memory of doing it.

Where did I do it? I'm getting the urge to wanting to paint something now. Isn't that strange? Unless I helped my friend paint. He doesn't sound like me, but I might have done.

Oh, I don't remember. Even painting, I know I said I wasn't going to talk about painting pictures and things, but I've changed my mind. I never really enjoyed painting, even on paper.

I think part of the reason was I don't like the feeling, the feeling of the the paintbrush on the paper. Although I did, I did quite like the painting by numbers. Because that suited my way of doing things.

I quite like the process, you know, the yellow goes there, that's number one. Number three is blue. Number seven is green, you know, and just doing it like that.

And eventually you have a, well, a picture of sorts. Painting by numbers, oil painting was very popular, probably in the 80s, early 80s. And I had a few, I did a few of those things.

And it was okay. I quite like the smell of the oil paintings. That was quite nice.

Watercolors, not so much. I've never really been a big watercolor fan. Although I do like pastel colors.

And when I was at school, we had to do painting and I didn't really enjoy it. It wasn't really something I enjoyed doing. And I think part of the reason it's because I wasn't particularly good at painting.

It wasn't something that I had any kind of flair or talent or interest in. And maybe I was spending too much time comparing myself with the people that were painting nice pictures, or spending too much time spinning around until I got dizzy and then fell over. Because that's something I used to enjoy doing.

Or spending too much time seeing how much chocolate I could eat before feeling ill. So when I was in the classroom, I was kind of busy doing other things. So I didn't choose art as a subject when I had my last two years of high school.

Didn't choose to do that anymore. So I was quite pleased to let it go. So I had three years of art.

And it wasn't always painting, it was drawing, it was textiles, it was all kinds of things that I really wasn't particularly... Well, I have no memory of any of it, if I'm honest. I think I just used to zone out. Just didn't really take much notice of what was going on.

Maybe reading a book about something else. I was quite interested in vampires and werewolves when I was about 12. So that took a lot of my time.

So I'm not sure. Yeah, just never really my thing. Never really my thing.

I mean, a couple of times I have attempted to paint as an adult. I bought easels, I bought paints and tried to paint. It's almost like the creativity in me just refuses to present itself in the form of painting or drawing or in that type of artistic way.

Just doesn't seem to happen. It's almost like it's not available. I'm not sure why.

My brother was a very good artist, very good at drawing and painting. I just, I wasn't. And the thing is, I've always admired people that could draw.

Draw. There used to be this supervisor at one of my sales jobs in insurance. And in an evening when we would be doing like an early evening shift, would finish at 10 or something.

And when it was a bit quiet, he'd start drawing things. And he was brilliant. And it turned out he had his own business as a graphic designer and an artist, part-time.

And he was part-time doing that job, I didn't realise. And then he got offered the job in London, full-time as a, I don't know, some kind of artistic, I think it was doing cartoons or something like that. So he left and I was like, good for you.

He absolutely was just so good. He could just draw something. Like just, I say, for some people it's not impressive, but to me it's like, wow, you just drew that.

Before you did that, there was nothing on the page, it was just blank. Now there's a thing. Wow.

So yeah, I'm very impressed with people who have those kinds of artistic talents. And it's almost like I never had it. I never, I used to enjoy drawing, I did when I was young.

And my step-mom was a really good drawer. She loved drawing birds. And she had A-level in art.

And so she, you know, she enjoyed doing it. And I was, I suppose, I don't know if encouraged, but definitely I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be as good as her.

So I used to draw things, I used to copy. So the only things I used to draw out of my mind would be things like spaceships and cars that could fly and things like that. The rest of the time, it would be drawing pictures out of magazines, like children's magazines and stuff, because I was a child at the time.

And I remember I drew Buck Rogers, because there was a television show, Buck Rogers in the 25th century, I think. So I drew Buck Rogers. And I spent about three hours drawing him, copying him from the magazine.

And he had all his costume on, his white costume and I think it was snowing outside. I finished, it was a really, it was a lovely afternoon. It was warm inside, it was snowing outside.

I could look outside, see the snow, see the robin red breasts playing in the snow. And I was probably laying down on my stomach, or on my, you know, on my front and drawing the picture. And when I'd finished drawing the picture, I felt quite good.

I felt like I'd accomplished something. And I remember taking it to my stepmom, quite excited, quite maybe proud, I don't know. And I must have been probably 11.

Maybe this time. And I showed it to her and she said, Oh, it's a lovely picture of Elvis Presley. It's like, that's not Elvis Presley, it's Buck Rogers.

She said, Nah, I think it's Elvis Presley. I said, No, it's Buck, I'm the one who drew it. I should know, it's Buck Rogers.

She said, No, but it looks like Elvis. And I said, Elvis, why would Elvis be holding a space helmet? She said, Well, I was about to ask you the same thing. And I just walked away, walked away.

And I remember thinking to myself, where did I leave my, where did I leave that Mars bar? And I realised it was in my pocket and it was all melted. So I put it into the fridge. The thing is, for some reason, I thought it'd like reshape itself back to where it was.

But it didn't, it stayed the same shape. I remember eating it, it's cold Mars bar, and it was all flat and lumpy. Oh, good memories.

But I can't think of anything else really about painting. I think that's it. I don't think there's anything else that I could think of.

Nevermind. So I guess that brings the end of this. Thank you for listening.

Remember to be kind to yourself because you deserve to be happy. Lots of love. Bye.