Sometimes you have an idea. And sometimes it doesn't fit on anything in sight. Everything is to big, too small, not sturdy enough or made with the wrong material. Soooo... There's no way around it. You gotta build it. Then you make a drawing (it's usually so rough if you found it a week later you would not have a clue what it was) Then you go through all your lumber and drag this and that over to the table saw. Then it gets messy, like a big storm hits the shop. Nails, screws, bar clamps, air hoses, glue and sawdust and who knows what else. But in the end it all works out and in my case, if Im lucky, looks nothing like the drawing.
Color makes it feel different. I like wood. I have lots of it. I like the clean look of oak , I like how pine drinks up stain and despise maple because it won't. Old wood looks the best with that patina and scars of every generation that had it serving their house. New wood just looks new. But... sometimes a piece of wooden furniture needs a little something to give it some recognition. That's where paint comes in. It heals all the scars and brings the eye to things that might forever be unnoticed as wood. Maybe the shape, maybe the additional brightness or darkness too. I've met those who feel painting wood is a sacrilege. Now I'm no wood whisperer, but I swear I have heard a couple chairs actually thank me after their 2 coats of paint.
When you get a can of paint out, your wet brush can find its way to things that...well let's call them... innocent victims. Much of what I have painted was never intended to be painted but when you have a brush in your hand everything looks pretty damn tempting. I have learned many things can look better painted, even badly painted. Occasionally I paint some odd thing and it looks so damn cool I spend a week looking for another one. That is until I see it on EBay for $100 and realize I brushed the value right out of the one I had. Most things can be painted. To save some money, I once painted some formica tables at a bowling alley. The primer stuck and it served the establishment for years. I never know what Im gonna paint next. But if you ever see me walking around with a brush full of paint, my suggestion is steer clear!
There is something really exciting about finding something on the street. It is an amazing discovery. It comes out of nowhere. You see a a corner of a table, a chair, a lawnmower and you have to stop! I got over my embarrassment of hovering over a free pile decades ago. The wild thing is that there is usually some little issue with the item, a chip, a crack a little wear. You start thinking ...if I don't pick this up it will rain, or snow or the wind will blow a limb down on it. It could be brought back to life and I know how to do it. But if I leave it maybe it will meet its end at the landfill when the bulldozer indiscriminitely mangles it along with other abandoned items and mashes it into a pile of rubble. It looks at me. I look at it. I break down and say, " Okay, get in the car." It comes home and I will likely spend a good deal of time bringing it back to service. Then when someone buys it Im tempted to tell them the long winded story , but for their sake I don't. I'm just happy to see it make its way back into everyday life.