Recently I have been working to update the furniture in my living room. I live in a seriously outdated apartment, complete with wood paneling, shag carpet and bright orange counters in the kitchen. Needless to say, it makes me itch for change. Only a few weeks ago I had the opportunity to end my lease and move, but decided that since I had already moved twice in the past 2 years, had colored my hair at least 3 drastic colors in the past year and generally had an issue with being satisfied, that I would stick to my guns with my apartment. Plus it only takes 3 minutes, tops, to walk from my apartment to The Gardner Fine Arts Pavilion where the University of Findlay's art studios are.
For me change is the mover of life. Without change I feel stagnant and purposeless. If I did not feel this way though, I would not be a maker. I make things into shapes, purposes and symbols that they would otherwise not achieve. The same goes for you if you sculpt, write, or compose in any way. Change has always been natural to me.
In light of this, I have had, as stated above, an itch to change my apartment. I would love to paint the dark wood panels white, but have settled instead to give my furniture some necessary uplifting. I obtained most of my furniture through my grandma who bought me a set from Pier1 many years ago. Miraculously I had some form of good taste then and chose pieces that fit a sea theme in my mind. I have three dressers, a nightstand and my head and foot boards.
The first piece to come through my fury is a dresser in my living room with also serves as an entertainment stand. I got the idea from a DIY on Pinterest (shown above) and hardly tweaked it. I began with just the cream color that now is confined to the right side. I taped up a line off center and began painting black. If you have never done major revamping to something of significant value, I urge you to try your hand at it. Lord, is it frightening! After hours of painting the left a teeny brush, I removed the tape and promptly threw acrylic paint across the front. Then I taped of the handles, with added aluminum foil protection covering a wide range around the tape, and spray painted them gold. Voila.
As for my bookshelf, coating it was less scarey. This decrepit piece of furniture had at one time belonged to my brother (and I found a rough carving of his name in it as I painted) and was salvaged by me out of my old garage. I began with roughly painting the shelves white, leaving streaks to allow for a stressed look, then began taping off chevron like structures all over the top and on the edges of the lower shelves. I knew I was in trouble when with the first level my spray can was spluttering (I had already used this can of paint for a stool). Midway through the third level the can ran out and I made an executive decision to go ahead and pull the tape. Little things like this add to the character of creation. Some argue that chance happenings do not make art, but I believe if you decide to leave something in a certain way then it is no longer chance.
Curious Fact: Al Capone's business card said he was a used furniture dealer.