Painted ceilings and bright blues

 I flipped open All The Bright Places again to page 172 and now I want to paint my bedroom walls a light ocean blue that's so bright it will pair nicely with my white-purple blanket. I would buy three gallons of the paint to do it.  At the full brightness of blueness

It takes many, many coats to cover the red. No matter what I do it steeps right through, like the walls are bleeding. By midnight, the paint still isn't dry, and so I gather up the black comforter and shove it into the back of the linen closet in the hall, and I dig around until I find an old blue comforter of Kate's. I spread this onto my bed. I open the windows and move my bed into the middle of the room, and then I climb under the blanket and go to sleep. The next day, I paint the walls again. It takes two days for them to hold the color, which is clear, bright blue of a swimming pool. I lie on my bed feeling easier, like I can catch my breath. Now we're talking, I think. Yes. The only thing I leave alone is the ceiling, because white contains all the wavelengths of the visible spectrum at full brightness. Okay, this is technically true of white light and not white paint but I don't care. I tell myself all the colors are there anyway, and this gives me an idea. I think of writing it as a song, but instead I sign onto the computer and send a message to Violet. You are all the colors in one, at full brightness. ~ Jennifer Niven.

Then I jump to page 186 where Flinch says, When I get back, the white on my bedroom ceiling is too bright, and so I turn it blue with what's left of the paint. ~ Jennifer Niven.