Yesterday I pretended to be an undercover agent; today I am going to pretend to be an artist. The undercover operation is (of course) a secret, but I can say that it was a success. Thank you, Tamarack!
Today's project is a chair with an odd history. It began life at the Unicentre of Carleton University. One of my daughters brought it home after an evening's revelry and it, like the stash chest, has moved from house to apartment to cottage over the years. It is not terribly comfortable because it doesn't have a proper back, but it is sturdy ... and heavy. Right now it is sitting in the dining room waiting for me to open the white primer and begin to transform it into a funky chair for my sewing desk ... which will be my next big project. Since I never sew for hours on end, this chair with its reed seat for my bum and nothing to support my lower back is just fine.
I have no idea how I will paint either the desk or the chair, but I will not be putting giraffes on them. The African colours, though, will likely prevail.
Then I can turn to the bed I retrieved from a neighbour's garbage many many years ago, and after that to the old chairs that came with the cottage and are stronger than the more expensive ones that match my dining room set, but which are losing supportive structural parts on a regular basis and are ending up stacked in the porch.
Since almost everything I own is old and in need of paint, I will likely have enough projects to take me all the way to the grave. What fun!