18 November, 2015

spray paint visions

because i'm unemployed and miss feeling useful i volunteered to refinish the furniture in our building's common room. the furniture is ancient and as solid as it is ugly, and because we're trying to be economical in our actions, it was decided* that repainting was preferable to either large expenditures or continued ugliness.

now lest you get inaccurate (though highly complimentary) visions of me meticulously stripping the varnish, painstakingly sanding the nooks and crannies, and then lovingly applying a homemade mixture of beeswax and lemon juice to allow the beauty of the wood to shine through, stop right there - one word: spray paint. ok, that's two words, but having huffed roughly 37.2% of four cans of metallic spray paint in a work room with less than existing stellar ventilation, i'm just glad i still know how to type. or blink. or breathe. for a while there it was touch and go but i rallied.

spray-painting furniture is quite fun, especially since the wonders of modern chemistry allow you to dispense with the dull bits like thorough washing or sanding and go straight to the meat of the matter: watching an ugly behemoth of a side table get magically transformed into an almost handsome piece of furniture is a great pleasure. granted, getting high on all the lovely VOCs might have increased the perception of delight  but who am i to argue with nature science fate?

*i love the impersonal feel of this sentence, as though stone tablets proclaiming this decision appeared suddenly in the common room or the lobby couch spake with the voice of angels. alas, it was merely the condo board of directors, which, come to think of it, also sounds far more ominous than it actually is. after all, mr. monkey's on the board, and his ominousity quotient is nothing to brag about.

1 comment:

Zhoen said...

Some furniture deserves nothing better. And should be bloody grateful.