So the garage is a wee bit less full now. And by ‘wee’ I mean, you probably can’t tell any difference at all. I was so excited to complete a few projects in there to help get myself organized (more on that later) and I’ve been finishing up a few furniture pieces. But then my friend called and said “I was walking the other morning and found some stuff in my neighbor’s trash you might want”.
Well, of course, I did.
I’m no dummy.
But I’ve been working on a piece of furniture for a little while (as in months and months) and have finally finished it. This was a piece that threw me for a loop. My friend (same one that brings me trash) was updating her daughter’s room and had a few pieces that she thought I might want. This piece came to me painted a lovely shade of bright orange. It actually worked beautifully with her daughter’s room because she had a young bohemian vibe going on. But I am neither young nor bohemian. So I needed to work on this piece.
I thought about just painting over the orange, but honestly, it looked like it had been painted a few times and needed to be stripped down. UGH. Not my favorite thing to do. But I love furniture. So here we go.
As I was scraping off the layers of paint I realized that this piece had not one, not two, not 3, not 4 but 5 layers of paint. Yes, y’all 5 layers. Can I tell you how many times I wanted to collapse in my garage floor and cry. Thankfully there isn’t space for me to do that, so I kept scraping.
I don’t even want to tell you this next part, because you are going to get really mad and judgemental on me. Just promise to not send me hate mail, because I am close to needing therapy anyway over what I’ve done and you might just tip that crazy scale.
Okay, here goes. The bottom layer (that I scraped off) was a hand-painted scene from the late 1800s. Yep. I told you. Okay, you can send the hate mail. I totally understand your anger. But I am just as upset about it as you are. That is why this piece took me so stinking long.
But here’s the thing. Once you slap on that stripping agent, it does its job. It doesn’t care that you don’t know there is hand-painted deer in a forest scene. It doesn’t care that these deer never saw it coming. It just does it’s job.
It’s all “Bambi who?”
I let it sit there for months. I was in disbelief. I was angry. I tried to figure out a way to salvage what was still there. But it was just not happening.
So I took a deep breath and painted a coat of paint. I think a tear ran down my cheek like that Native American in the ‘Keep America Beautiful’ commercial from the 70’s. It was tough. I needed dramatic background music. Maybe a wistful pan flute.
So this piece has seen it all. It has been fancy, black, red, white (with ivy stencils), orange and now it is a lovely shade of oxford blue. I hope we can all move past this and remain friends.