Well, I’ve decided to take the plunge and start a blog! I get a lot of questions about my pieces and techniques, and I figured this would be a fun way to answer some of those questions and make some new friends!
I finished this piece yesterday, and I truly love it. It’s a mix of Miss Mustard Seed Farmhouse White and Schloss, sealed with white wax. I didn’t really have an end vision for this one, so I was pleasantly surprised by the outcome! But I don’t want to talk about the process for this piece. I want to talk about this:
See that chip in the veneer above the top knob? I want to talk about that. A few days ago my mom pointed out a chip on another piece and said, “you feel ok leaving that there?” and I instinctively felt very defensive and replied, “yes I do!” I wasn’t sure why I felt so defensive though…she wasn’t criticizing, just asking, so what was my deal? Was I insecure about my work? Questioning my choice to leave the chip? It wasn’t until yesterday, when my husband made a comment about THIS chip that I think I figured it out. I wanted to show him the finished product, but as I was doing so I had a twinge of nervousness about “the chip.” Was he going to comment on my choice to leave it too? But instead, he said “It looks great! And I like how it even chipped cool…adds character.”
Phew. Yes. This. What I realized in that moment was how connected I am with my pieces. I put my blood, sweat and tears into them and they become my “creative babies.” I personally choose to leave the occasional chip or dent or scratch because they tell a story. These pieces have history. They’ve been places and seen things that you and I never will, and they have the scars to prove it. They have character. In that moment, I had so much love for my husband for “getting it,” because in some way, accepting the chips on my furniture is accepting MY chips. My scars. My history. Many people would look at them and think they’re ugly or need fixing, but he sees my “character.” (and at this point, if he’s reading this, he’s probably thinking “um, I was just talking about the veneer!”) But I’m choosing to embrace my chips and revel in their stories…my own and my furniture’s.
Perfect is so boring anyway, don’t you think? 🙂