i just spent the last couple hours working at refinishing a small dresser/nightstand that i picked up at the side of the road back in september. it’s been crowding my entryway ever since the day that i brought it home, because an earlier attempt to burn off the paint with a blowtorch proved to be rather unsuccessful: there were simply too many layers, and a mix of latex and oil-based at that.
(people! if your furniture is made from solid wood, don’t paint it! if you must, please use nice colours, and don’t layer latex on top of oil. better yet, check with me before you do anything at all. really, if you don’t like the look of real wood, maybe you should stick to particle board and leave the good stuff to those of us who love it. yes, i have control issues.)
at the advice of my upstairs neighbours, i’ve moved on to using chemicals, which i usually avoid due to the environmental impact. though, now that i think about it, the propane in my blowtorch ain’t exactly an impact-free product. huh. anyway. as much as i loathe to admit it, the super stripp@ is pretty damn effective. if my digital camera were functioning, i’d treat you to a short film of the paint blistering. it’s stunning. the fumes i’m breathing in are no doubt contributing to my appreciation of it.
so i’m painting on the chemicals and scraping away at the parts where the paint is already lifting, and i’ve got veda hille playing, five albums on shuffle. my mind was wandering and i was thinking about the times i’ve seen veda in concert, and the different memories i have of those events, and then the songs themselves, and the people they remind me of: a lover who put one song on a mix tape, a friend who always remarks on the similarity of our musical choices from back before we knew each other, a co-conspirator with whom i produced a radio show for which we used the “songs for emily carr” album as a soundtrack, a pair of artists whose studio i used to hang out in while listening to a cassette of that same album over and over into the wee hours of the night.
i’m painting and scraping and thinking, and the outer layer of paint peels away easily with no chemicals at all, and i see the word “veda”.
i know, i know: this photo is almost useless, cuz i used my webcam. but still, you can kinda see it, right? upside down, written in pencil in handwriting like that of a kid.
peeling back more paint, i find the rest of it:
“i love jade”
“hawt lol omfg!!!!!”
“stop all that downloadin”
“veda also likes jade”
SO. WEIRD. first off, that this dresser was repainted so recently and yet still looked crappy… but that aside, how common is the name veda? i am overwhelmed with notions that my thoughts are manifesting in bizarre occurrences outside of my consciousness, such as causing kids named veda to vandalize furniture that will later be tossed to the curb on the exact day that i’ve borrowed my ex’s car and am out hunting for such treasures, furniture that i decide to strip instead of repaint and decide to do so while listening to the collected works of only one of the hundreds of artists in my music collection.
i think i need to sleep more.