Flaking Paint I

The quality of paint flaking away from wood is different from that on metal – something to do with permeability I suppose.  On wood, the denuding is more gentle; time chips away at the paint, almost imperceptibly. On metal the paint gives up the ghost more dramatically – giving way in a rush to rust, or full sun. It curls up suddenly, like dead leaves on trees in autumn, revealing more and more of what lies beneath…

To me, the patterns made by all this peeling paint activity look a little like maps. When consider this, I could be four years old again, perched on the toilet, swinging my feet, in my nan’s house in Surrey, seeing all manner of strange faces in the swirly crackle pattern of the lino.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned the lino before.  It was obviously formative.

flaking paint

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Posted on August 8, 2014, in Be not idle, Nostalgia. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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