I�m in the throes of an aesthetic dilemma. When we moved into this house about a year and a half ago, the walls of our kitchen and family room were covered with a very expensive striped grasscloth that had been installed in the late 70s, had faded extremely badly, and was actually peeling off the walls. Needless to say, we tore it off as soon as possible, along with the very�.interesting matched vertical blinds. The walls were a mess, fully of dents and scratches from our inexpert wallpaper removal job. But so it remained for about a year.

All that changed yesterday when we finally got some painters in here to fix the job. Our kitchen and family room, which open onto each other, although the family room is down a half level, is now red. Not your candyass burnt umbers, maroons, ochers or burgundies. Bright, fire engine red. Actually, I believe the color is called Positive Red. AJ keeps running down the stairs, peering around the corner of the kitchen doorway and saying, �Oooo! It�s red!� Other comments we�ve heard have been, �It makes a bold statement.� (one of our painters), �I have to say, when I first opened the can, I thought, �Uh-oh. This is a big mistake.� But after I rolled out the whole wall, it started to grow on me,� (another painter), �It�s unique,� (another painter) and �It�s so bold and sassy.� That last one was from one of our friends and was delivered in such a way that it implied he was surprised that we would do something so bold and sassy.

We are all agreed that the family room looks great. Our house was built in the mid 70s and is your basic split level, except that it�s got lots of natural wood everywhere. Most of our decorating choices have been tame and have largely revolved around un-70sing things. The family room has this enormous oak bar, complete with mirrored and uplighted (uplit?) tiers of shelves to showcase your liquor. We actually have a thing for weird alcoholic drinks, and have a pretty decent collection, including some pretty obscure things friends have bought for us on their international travels (my favorite is a bottle of Unicum from Hungary. Don�t believe what this link says about it being addictive. This is quite possibly the vilest thing I have ever tasted. But the bottle looks very cool.). However, I sometimes feel like I should leave a tip when I get up to go to bed. The red somehow turns this room from 70s kitsch to a much more pleasant, loungy feel. More casbah than disco.

But the kitchen. The ceilings are vaulted, so the walls are really big. It�s very red. I don�t hate it, but it may perhaps be a little more bold and sassy than I can take. We have a skylight in the middle of the kitchen and I�m worried that at high noon when the sun is streaming in that I�ll feel like I�m in a fishbowl in hell. I suggested that we might chalk �All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy across the wall, but this was not met with enthusiasm. I think we�ll probably live with it for a while before we decide whether it�s going to make us nuts.

I�ve never had any color on my walls more exciting than Champagne. I�ve lived a very transient life. This is, I think, my 22nd place of residence. While the stuff in my house is important me � you move that often and the stuff is the only thing that lets you recognize whether or not you�ve walked into the wrong house � I�ve never really done anything to the house or apartment itself. Part of my difficulty with this color, I think, is that it signifies a statement of permanence that I am not totally ready to acknowledge.

But for now, anyway, I have a red kitchen.

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