by the Artist
I'm in the middle of a painting frenzy. I'm surrounded by a cluster of old now colorful chairs. I'm painting 2-3 hours a day. I get the office work done in the AM then head out to the shop. I've had some help but mostly I paint in solitude. Yesterday I had felt overwhelmed. I have been unable to decide on a sale date. The work is much more intensive then even me (who sees a glass half empty) had considered.
My hands are feeling it. I don't like to wear gloves so my hands take the brunt of the mixing and clean-up and the motion of painting. So I'm pacing myself. And lathering on tons of hand cream. My hands are starting to resemble Martha Stewart's hands. That isn't necessarily a bad thing.. I admire women who aren't afraid to get in there and work hard. No manicures for this artist.
I have been thinking about how to put my creative stamp on the furniture. I decided being a lover of fonts and lettering.. I would paint some quotes. So yesterday I decided to hand letter my first piece. I had envisioned one of the tables with a circle of words that starts in the center and moves out concentrically. I headed to Pinterest and found an appropriate quote. I then with some fear picked up a slim brush and made the first stroke. (I used to do some hand lettering at one of my graphic design jobs, whenever anybody needed that look)
I am not like the Carpenter. I don't like to measure. I like to just go for it. I'm not risky but I am risky. The lettering was almost complete when I realized that I had repeated a word. The. The. I couldn't hit delete. Dah. You should have seen me streak to the house for a clean wet paper towel. Disaster averted. I now realized that a chalk painted surface is very forgiving. The extra "the" wiped right off!
I finished this session with some sanding and distressing. I love to use the Carpenter's power hand sander. It works great on the chair seats and anything that you need to extreme distress. I knew the sand pad that I attached was getting old. As it spun around at mach speed it started looking just a wee bit off. It started making a very weird subtle sound. I just kept going.. I am rather risky I said. Well it came off. I should say.. it shot off. I don't know where it went. It was a blur. A thunk. I looked for a hole in the wall. I got a little scared.
I told the Carpenter what happened. He didn't seem too concerned. Said he would clean up the area the sand pad attaches to on the sander. He said I have to be careful with power tools. Hmmm. He is awfully used to me.