The desk wasn’t in terrible shape, it just needed a make over. It was actually easy to sand and prep for paint, which isn’t always the way it works out; some pieces can be a real pain in the a$$. Once I had it all sanded and cleaned up, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it. In fact, it has been sitting up in the guest room naked and afraid for months, haha. You know, when I work on pieces I tend to spend some time determining what I want the piece, in this case the desk, to express.
So I got to thinking… the desk wasn’t worn or in rough shape, and it made me realize it probably wasn’t used much. Isn’t the purpose of a desk to be a comfortable place to foster work or inspire ideas? Well it saddened me to think this desk’s purpose wasn’t fulfilled. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true. Each piece of furniture has a story, beginning, middle, or end. This desk is old but only at the beginning of its story- cheated out of love and affection.
My gift to the desk was to provide it a seemingly fulfilled life with a makeover. I decided the piece would look overly worn, by also showcase elegance. Great contrast in design ideas, but lets imagine it’s story:
I picture the desk sitting in an upstairs room of an old beach house. It was painted blue to compliment the white worn walls, sandy beach, and blue skies. The top was finished with a deep stain to look solid, sleek, and elegant.
The atmosphere in the room felt like the beach sand and sticky air was actually inside. Remembering the piece is old, I pictured a pile of papers with handwriting, postal mail, and an old time clock on the desk. It looked hectic, but still felt organized. Lengthy amounts of time were spend at that desk. Perhaps an author used the desk to write a novel, and was inspired by the beach; like Earnest Hemingway’s “Old Man and The Sea.” Over the years, the sticky air inside the room of the old beach house brushed paint off the desk, showing the dark wood beneath the color blue. It felt like the incoming of the crashing waves caused the paint to appear distressed. However, the top remained dark , in tact, and elegant. How could this be? Taking a closer look, you would notice that the top of the desk was protected by stacks of papers and mail. The stack of papers was not comprised of bills. receipts, or unnecessary mail; instead they held much greater value. The papers were pages written by some one that was inspired to write a book; demonstrating hard work, dedication, and re-writes to create perfection. The mail on the desk consisted of saved love letters; each one tucked into it’s envelope in order to keep it safe. One day the family passed the old beach house down to the next generation, but the desk remained. Having served its purposed, and relishing in its fulfilled life.