Patience or obsession? Three years stalking a table.

A few years ago I happened to notice a really fabulous iron table base with a really ratty table top in a local salvage store. It was love at first sight but I couldn't find a price tag on it. The table was hidden in a far corner holding up a dehumidifier which, of course, was my first clue. I knew the table wasn't for sale but there's no harm in asking. So I went downstairs and talked to the owner, which started a pattern of me asking about the table every time I stopped in there. Lest you think I was a pest, I didn't go in often. Maybe every 6 months or so. Let's just say 'overpriced.'

One day I stopped in and learned the owner was retiring and selling out. So I asked again about that table and this time it WAS for sale and at an incredibly low price. As low prices were unheard of at this particular business, I snapped it up before anyone could change their mind. (The owner had once hunted me down at a neighboring business to tell me a piece I was going to buy was not for sale. It was out in his parking lot sale, for pete's sake. Wha' dya mean, not for sale?) I made my getaway all the while imagining the store owner running down the road, waving his arms.

The first thing I did was replace the ratty top with the super distressed bottom of an old wine barrel. And after much thought, I painted and distressed a celtic knot on top. 

There are the remains of a manufactures label still attached so I googled for info. Well, well, well, turns out these table bases are quite desirable. huh

Look at that amazing texture! 

I found a sheet of teal press board with fabulous water stains at the ReStore. For a long time I had been wanting a background that would suit my industrial stuff. I have a thing for chippy paint and rust on metal furniture and I wanted to experiment with photographs of some of those pieces. The contrast between the paint, the rust and the metal can be so dramatic, especially in black and white. It excites the budding photographer in me.

Linking to

savvy southern style
i gotta create
miss mustard seed

Back in Black

Looking around it seems to me that black is the new black. For such a long time white was the new black, red was the new black, vampires were the new black. For about a minute orange was the new black. I am so glad black has escaped from where-ever they were keeping it, even though there is one more challenger. At some point black is going to have to arm wrestle zombies for dominance. Because zombies are the new black.

This week on Houzz there was a feature on black rooms. Oh goodness, they look so awesome!

Houzz.com

Houzz.com

Houzz.com

I've seen black kitchens out there and I love them. I even looked around my house for a wall that could be painted black but it's not gonna happen. North side of a mountain, you know. I cherish my 15 minutes of natural light when it comes through the livingroom windows. I scramble to get some photos done, running around carrying little tables. Everything has to face the same way, toward the windows. Well, unless I want that mysterious, shadowed look. So if you ever wondered why I always seem to have furniture facing to the right, now you know.

If I were to paint walls black I'm sure we would turn into Incredible Mole People. So I'll paint small stuff. The other day I amused myself by painting a frame black.  I antiqued the mirror and spray mounted a crossword puzzle to the back. It's been a while since I played with mirrors, so it was time.

There isn't a lot of black in our house. I've always felt black is a contemporary color although the rooms pictured above are more traditional. Regardless, around here black = Mole People, so it isn't going to happen. Even small black decorative accessories are scarce around here so when I decided to take some fun pictures I had to scramble to find fun props before the light went away.

Grouping old, black stuff together.....Addams Family? Or a good idea? Maybe as long as one doesn't get carried away and use, say, black candles.....

But when it comes right down to it, the color that makes me giddy when I spy it at a yard sale is green. Old, 1920's green. Be still my heart. Maybe a green wall? Maybe green will be the new black.

 

 Linking to:

funky junk interiors

nifty thrifty things

make it pretty monday

my uncommon slice of suburbia

knick of time interiors

savvy southern style

i gotta create

miss mustard seed

The Tale of an Old Table (and one woman's attempt to get a good picture)

Once upon a time there was an old table. An unassuming, dried out, wobbly, bent old table.

It followed me home.

I was new to furniture painting and designer paint back then. A babe in the woods. So I painted the table with chalk paint and did the top coat with milk paint..... not knowing .... And Holy Cow! Make it stop!

What is now serendipity was to me then an unexpected and scary failure. I had no idea what was going on so I just watched. And watched. And watched. Until it stopped.

Deep breath

sand

start again

The second time I got just the right amount of chipping and started warming up to it. Plus I'd discovered dark wax and slathered it on. Slathered.

Although I was doing this table for myself I took pictures in case I changed my mind and put it on etsy. So began 4 years of trying to take a decent picture. It's leggy and scrawny. It's nothing but spindles with a flat spot on top. The thing is all about negative space! And I didn't have but one cheap camera. Change lenses? HA HAha ha ha. snort

 In the beginning there was a peach table. It sat in front of a peach wall. And it was awful.

 

Here it is slammed up against the wall on a fake floor.

And in natural light, several months later. Still tall and gangly. And peach.

 

 I dragged it outside.

I dragged it back inside. (Disclaimer: The walls aren't that peachy, however I WILL repaint)

I buried put it in my booth.

I dragged it back home and did a ....... goth version? Good grief.

Okay. Let's try another angle.

Oh boy that's a lotta peach.

 Sunshine didn't help.

 A dark room might help...... but I finally decided on a redo.

You can't tell from the pictures but there was so much dark wax on the table that it looked dirty. And I never liked the peach table top. No, really! I DIDN'T! When I decided to sell it I gave it an update.

In with the Old White, out with the peach. But not before I went over the whole thing with odorless mineral spirits to remove the wax.

 The pumpkin border is gone from the top, as is the peach! YAY! Let's hear it for beautiful whites!

There was a world of difference with the dark wax gone. Don't misunderstand me, I love dark wax, but when I was a newbie I had no idea when enough was enough.

 

 The table is brighter and more cheerful looking now.

The green remained the same.

The finishing touch was the stencil painted in a chamois color that I mixed myself.

It's still a gangly table but the backgrounds are getting more interesting.

It's going back to the booth today but I really want to keep it. Unfortunately I'd have to hang it from the ceiling or something; there is simply no room.

Linking to:
miss mustard seed
common ground
funky junk interiors
be different act normal

Twinkle, twinkle one-eared cat

I moved this school desk and after that couldn't get the little rhyme out of my head. I kept making up new words. :-) I've got a million of them!

Twinkle, twinkle one-eared-cat

Wonder if you hear with that?

Rodents scurry, I'm surprised they dare,

since we know there's something crunchy there

The Inspector is healing fast. He even has peach fuzz growing so he no longer looks like he's turning into a snake. (Anyone see that 'B' horror movie called Hssss?)

The Inspector (real name: Morgan) looks a little grumpy about being disturbed. This is his new place to nap - the laundry basket. I'm not entirely used to it yet, I keep asking him "Where's your ear?"

Peach Fuzz!

Morgan is back to playing with the dog. He's instigating games of Tag and King of the Hill. Yesterday he left some body parts in the hall for me to clean up. Ah, yes, the Inspector is feeling good. But I HATE finding a spleen on the carpet. Hate. It.

{I don't know that it was a spleen, but I'm going with it.}

Looking good, Inspector 19, looking good!

Sharing with
uncommon designs on line
miss mustard seed

Laying low, processing what the doctor said.

No matter how positive or optimistic a person is, there will be times when unpleasant news has to be processed. That was me last weekend. I had an appointment with a specialist who told me I might be faced with a treatment that entails repeated rounds of no-fun-at-all. I think my eyes bugged out of my skull.

So, I had a quiet weekend getting used to the idea. I just worked on simple things and dragged some furniture from room to room. I had a table in the corner of my bedroom that was doing nothing but holding up some old clocks and a couple rabbits. Really, the base was the only reason I kept this table. It's old, heavy and ... well, old and heavy. I thought decoupage would be a therapeutic way to spend some time.

There were some old newspapers in a trunk I found at an estate sale and I thought they would make an entertaining table top.

And I thought the newspaper suited the base.

I love old stuff.

Then I saw a photo of silver and glass salt and pepper shakers on a silver tray. It looked great but I only had a seen-better-days gold tray.    

 Like this one.

  I painted it with blackening solution and antiqued the mirror. But the tray looked too dull so I got out the Guilders Paste and put some shine on there.

The tops of the little joined salt and pepper were red plastic. The blackening solution took care of that! Even at close inspection they look metal.

 So much better!

What I used.

Cruising around the web I came across some frames that were done in an old world style using gesso instead of paint. Well, I have gesso and I have frames so I thought I'd give it a try.

And therapeutic? Part of the technique is to whack away at the dry gesso with a wire brush. And whack I did. Whack whack whack. The result is an aged, dug-out-of-Pompeii look that you just can't get with paint. 

Whack whack whack.

Ahhhhh. I felt much better. 

Five days in the hospital?

Whack Whack WHACK

23 days recovering?

WHACK WHACK WHACK

Repeat until my next transplant?

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

sigh ......

Laying low time is over. It's time to step back into the fight.

Sharing with:
miss mustard seed
common ground
no minimalist here
french country cottage
between naps on the porch
be different act normal