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Where am I?


I know I promised a flood of posting and much work upon finishing the move. I have fallen down on that promise, but for good reason. I got here, moved all my stuff in, and realized: I really have no place to work in this condo whatsoever. What’s a girl to do? Make her own damn space, that’s what. All said space needed was a work surface.

I went desk hunting, across thrift stores and Craigslist and little discount shops, oh my. And I found a desk I like- it’s small and lightweight, but still good wood, not laminate and particle board. The only issue (after I figured out how to jamb it in the back seat of a Honda Civic and then how to get it out again)? It was freaking ugly.

So I made it uglier.

The Artsy Shot
The Artsy Shot

After inhaling way too much paint stripper, and learning how to keep the beer in my left hand and the can of noxious chemicals in my right separate, I’ve just about removed the disgusting amount of glossy varnish that entombed this poor, defenseless piece of furniture. Seriously, there was enough varnish on that little desk to shellac my car. Next up: belt sander! I love playing with power tools.

Some day, this will be very pretty.
Some day, this will be very pretty.

I’m excited. I haven’t had a designated studio space in, well, ever.

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