This is a difficult paint. Home Depot is about to discontinue carrying this line. The color is good but my husband less than diplomatically suggested that perhaps we should have hired someone more skilled at plaster repair before we applied the paint. I had to think of a solution to what was being chalked up to the results of my own impatience, and I did. I suggested a perforated metal covering. Once again, it helps to have a husband in the biz. He designed a soffit covering that would be mounted about an inch off the wall. We played with a sample piece to determine exactly how far away from the wall it ought to stand to allow the right amount of light filtering. He made a support beam and applied the sheet of metal that he had cut and bent to fit exactly. (He had made the measurements himself because I tend to say things like "It's 87 inches and just two of those tiny lines.")
Some things don't become apparent when you design these kinds of things on the fly, like the fact that the support beam was unhappily visible through the perforated metal. To hide this - and also to soften the overly industrial effect of this installation - we added an oversized strip of oak egg and dart molding painted with the same Ambassador Silver. I was glad I had refrained from throwing out the little bit I had left of this annoying paint.
Feeling almost done with the kitchen, I announced that it was time to "trick it out" with some stuff we had in storage, like these industrial brackets from an old factory in Waterbury, Connecticut. A vintage washing machine agitator stamped with the endearing phrase "Spiral Dasher". Three white McCoy vases that I had kept in a box for twenty years. A Michael Aram trivet. A Bosch coffepot designed by Porsche.
We just about done with the kitchen.
Next up: that narrow tunnel of an entrance hall.