The beauty of a perfect wall

Been painting our bedroom, last few days. Or, rather, prepping it for painting.

I been 'round a while, painted more than a few things in my life. And when I do prep, I do prep. Take a few days at least for a decent sized room: rake the loose plaster out of cracks and seams against moulding, tighten up ducts coming into the walls, replace louvres as necessary, tape all the cracks and then mud the tape, use good wood filler in gaps in the moulding (old house, there's always lots of these), mud everything including every little ding as often as it takes to get a good buildup and fill in shrinkage, feather-sand 'til every edge is invisible, then go heavy with the white-tinted shellac to seal it all up tight...

Yeah, you wind up with nostrils full of plaster dust, a head full of alcohol fumes (from the shellac, people)... But durn, when you're done, there's nothing like a perfect wall. Bedroom's the last thing I've done in this place; always a challenge getting to it when there always seems to be someone or several someones asleep in there—young kids, that's how it goes...

Finally got to it, prep's almost done now, and we've decided it's going a really dramatic, dark red, white trim. Gonna be sharp.