Solving Faux Problems

So I have this really great client who I love and who has played a really pivotal role in my life even though she probably doesn't even know it, starting about six years ago when I first did my faux-painting thing in her living room and on some built-in shelves. She recently asked me to help her "patch" some places in the walls.

Well this required floating out the sheet rock and blowing new texture so I called in Narciso and his experts for that. They did an incredible job without even making a mess. Now it's my turn and I've been trying to not only match what I did six years ago, but also what someone else did before that. It's impossible. My former faux is fixed and it's really passable.

But in the bedroom -- that's another story. Today I stood there dabbing a bit of glaze here, another glob there, -- not knowing what in the hell the other faux painter used or what he was trying to do. Did he use a rag, a sponge? Surely not an Ultimate Stippler like I love. Amidst all those question marks floating around in the air above my head, I came up with a solution to everyone's problem.

Beautiful Gwynne just needs to buy a bigger bookshelf to cover up the not-so-matchy patches and it will solve the whole problem.

And if that doesn't work, she just needs to hire me to repaint her whole master bedroom so we can start over. I think that would be my preference, actually. Right now it's what my daughter Caroline calls a ba-saster.

Love it, love it, love it!

It's really hard for me to turn off my brain sometimes at night. And since I've been up painting on Vicky's coffee table because she's having a CAbi party on Thursday and MUST have it and I PROMISED, I can't dive into creative brain buzz and then shut it right off like someone else I know in this house.

With that in mind, I decided I'd blog for a bit. We've all been a bit blogless lately and I've nothing to read. Since I don't really have anything profound to profess at the moment, I decided to show y'all a house I really like. It's on Lake McQueeney, on Treasure Island. I had noticed it for its special, not-the-same-old-Sherwin-Williams-neutral color. However my very cool friend Stephanie one day said "have you seen the cool house with the pink shutters?"

Pink shutters? And I had not seen this and taken note of it? The very next day I was out on "the island" (as we like to say in a Thurston Powell voice) so I decided to track it down. I still love the house, but with the pink shutters installed, now I want to marry it.

If I was to put shutters on my house and be as avant garde, I suppose they would need to be lime green, or a boring black. I can't seem to find a picture of it on this computer, so I'll have to show you next time.

Here's a peak at the house I love from the water.


For a lake house, I just love it.

Are you a picker? Or a grinner?

For the last two weeks, I have been transforming kitchens, both previously hidden by hideous wallpaper, circa 1992-ish. I think I mentioned the first job. The baby blue flowers on white with dusty pink hearts was an exhilarating joy to pull off. It came off in sheets, so it was fast and easy. Just like I like it.

I've since moved on to my next victim. This particular wallpaper was put on a bit more professionally, in a truly custom home, so my guess is they used the right glue and wanted it to stay on. And then subsequent homeowners tired of the dusty pink with southwesty green brush strokes. People are so fickle, aren't they? They first painted over the wallpaper with a Pepto Bismoly pink. And then something we're calling "custom-mix mauve." Oh, the horror of it all. Painted Groove to the rescue.

Here's a picture of how the wallpaper started lifting off. This is why the husband agreed to let me come in to do my magic.

Let's just say that this removal job is more like cleaning teeth than it is creating a beautiful custom finish with all my incredible talents. I told Lavenderchick I feel like a dental hygienist. She was kind of jealous, being a picker and all.

I'm actually working up a sweat getting off some of the paper, along with two or six coats of paint. It's really tedious but for some reason I totally dig this kind of thing. The transformation is going to be spectacular. This is how the walls are going to look when they're finished. This photo is from the powder room nearby. The basecoat will be the same, SW Nomadic Desert, but I plan to skip the metallic glaze in the kitchen.

Reflections on my night out with really old friends

OK, let me rephrase that. It's not that the friends are really old. They've just been two of my favorite people for a really long time. So long that they could probably write a book about every low-down, dirty rotten thing I've ever done in my life. And for so long that they were right there with me during many a created adventure.

Saturday night we were fortunate enough to be invited guests at a sold-out Bonnie Bishop/Robert Earl Keen show at Gruene Hall. Robert Earl is my absolute favorite singer-songwriter in the world. Gruene Hall is my all-time favorite place to see a band, and to be able to get together beforehand with two really old friends (I mean, longtime friends who remain fresh and supple hotties in the prime of their life), along with my husband for such a huge event: Well it was just a really great night.

Anyway, we were talking about blogs: Lavenderchick and "the ubiquitous Lisa P." It was Lisa's turn to talk and she first said she had a message for me from her father, Daddy Frank.

"Oh God," I lamented. "I can hardly wait to hear." Apparently Daddy Frank wanted to remind me what a lazy, no good whiner I had been all those years ago when all he wanted to do was instill a little work ethic into us by forcing us to work as child labor picking black-eyed peas and zucchini in his oh-so fertile West Texas garden. Flash-forward to Saturday night and I cringed remembering I had had the nerve to whine when I'd probably been camping out at his house eating his food for days.

Then Lisa got to the point: "Out of all of us, after all these years, you're the one that has changed the most."

"Me?" I asked. "Yes," she continued. "Reading your blog, with all your artistic talents and the spiritual things you write about, listening to the television preacher..."

I have been thinking about Lisa's comments for the past few days: the person I was, things I thought, stupid stuff I did. I know everyone thinks their life was the wildest and their painful past is the worst, but I just have so much to be thankful for that I am not that person anymore. Somehow, I still have those amazingly talented friends. Lavenderchick has rocked the corporate world for the past 20 years and now she's the most creative creator of the world's most luxurious lavender lotion and body wash. Lisa is like a household name in Austin and though we knew she could pound out a glorious "Send in the Clowns" on the piano in her parents' courtin' room, who knew she'd become a fundraiser extraordinaire before setting sail on her current photographic endeavor that will only add to her fame and glory. I really am blessed. And these are only two of my incredibly talented friends.

So when I thankfully think that the person I was is no longer with us, I like to think that I retained whatever was good, buried once and for all a lot of the bad, and I'm continuing to work on shucking other stuff because there is still room for improvement. I don't think Lisa thought she was being profound when she told me "you're the one that has changed the most." But I've thought about it six thousand different ways and the main thing I come up with is, "well thank God for that."

Seriously.

Help! I Have a 13-year-old and I can't get out!!!

I may be going the way of Design-Block. My 13-year-old, light-of-my-life, pride-and-joy daughter might just suck the life out of me, much like Christmas.

It's just beginning. One of my nice clients told me last week she didn't think you could use the words light of my life and pride and joy in the same sentence in reference to any teenager. She's already been there, done that and has it all behind her. Lucky woman.

I did have a thoroughly invigorating and inspired day ripping baby blue and white wallpaper with pink hearts off the walls of an otherwise nice kitchen. Then I hand-troweled a new texture on the walls. Tomorrow I'll paint them a beautiful gold color I can't remember the name of. The reason I can't remember it is because I have a 13-year-old daughter I somehow thought was not going to give me any trouble in life. What was I thinking?

I'm off my meds

I can't help it. I've been warped by the Curse of the Blue Rock. And the proof lies in this fabulous half-of-a-table I just finished last night. I love it. But I'll admit it's a little out there.

The top of it, pictured above, is so rich and wonderful you can't help but touch it. The picture just does not do it justice, so you'd better stop by for a visit and check it out for yourself. Then, I got a little funky with Activation and check out the legs:

I just love that fish-eye effect. I want to do an entire wall in this, in watery colors. Here's the whole table. I don't think I like where it's located, but it sure does liven-up that long hallway.

Come on over and do it my way...

I realize there may be a few people out there who have not come on over to my way of thinking. But that's just because I haven't yet convinced you that painted furniture rules! I don't know why and yes, there are exceptions. I do resist painting things and there are some well-represented wood tones in my very own home. But as a general rule, the most ordinary piece of drab furniture can be made lovely with a carefully crafted paint job.

I was reminded that not everyone sees furniture my way the other day when I bought some darling little 1960s twin beds for my twins. I made the mistake of announcing to the nice man selling them to me that I was going to paint them.

"Paint them?!!!? Beautiful solid maple beds? And you want to put paint on them?" he gasped. I got the impression he almost wanted to yank them back out of my hands and take them back to his protective home.

In defense of my outlandish opinions, and inspired by Cote de Texas' blogged report from Dallas market, I thought I might plead my case with you here. Here's the photo that got me all juiced up and dying to paint something:

The Guildmaster line in the In-Detail showroom. I want to move in.

Is that armoire not the most romantic, most beautiful thing you've ever seen? I can recreate that, just in case you're wondering. In her blog, Joni of Cote de Texas reveals light-colored furniture like this cream collection was hot at the most recent Dallas market last weekend.

Here's a peak at the Two's Company showroom, again courtesy of Cote de Texas:

I'm sorry, but this piece looks oh so much better in white than it would in crusty brown. Those walls remind me of my girls' bathroom. Maybe I won't repaint it after all.

To further convince the masses, and in search of inspiration from other sources of painted furniture, I found a company called Patina, makers of fine Italian painted furniture. This company only reinforces my point:

The frascati table from Patina Inc.

I have a pitiful little brown table very similar to this in my garage that I bought at the St. Andrews garage sale. It can expect to be painted cream and gold any day now.

And please tell me, why on earth would you want something like this:

When you could have this instead:

Hand-painted Veneto Bombay chest from Patina Inc.

Any one of these armoires from Patina, I would tenderly love in my own home:

Just in case you're not in love with black like I am, Patina offers this yummy, less dramatic option:

If I was to let go of the two "garage-sale chic" pieces taking up residence in my bedroom right now, I would have just the spot for the following beauty:

I know it's enormous, but my ceilings are so high it requires a mammoth piece of furniture. And for my pink-loving friends, isn't this gorgeous?

Why can't pink be the new black? I want to marry this armoire.

It Ain't Easy Bein' Me But ....

Just one day after the television preacher explained to me exactly why my painted passion is so fulfilling, rewarding and apparently bears good fruit, I experience a day during which I was overcome with gut-wrenching doubt. I had work to do, it was cold and rainy, and Daughter Number 1 was having a nightmarish slumber party in celebration of her 13th birthday. I had a little bit much on my plate -- practically a Thanksgiving dinner on my plate. Here's a picture the 12- and 13-year-old darlings took last night when the night was young:

Now that the party is over and all my angst has subsided, I wonder what was I so worried about? The job got finished. It was beautiful. I got paid. Everybody is happy. The party was a success and oh, so revealing. I learned things about my daughter's friends that will serve me so very well as they age and move in to high school. Little did they know I was conducting psychological evaluations as they giggled and screamed the night away.

After the freak-out, I can't help but wonder, where the heck do these doubt attacks come from anyway? Is there a gene that only women get? I have yet to see my husband doubt or second-guess anything, (other than commitment before we were married). On second thought, maybe it's us girls that are normal and it's the men that are missing something important.

I never got around to telling anybody that on the day that Creflo Dollar explained my God-given passion, Joyce Meyer shared with me some really good advice on destructive thoughts. I'm telling you, Wednesday was my day for receiving important messages. When I was talking this over with Smart Jamie, she hinted I may be overthinking things. You think?

So I've analyzed my doubt attack for another day and a half and determined, shockingly, that it's the kids' fault. They know the buttons to push and push them with abandon. My painted groove is legit and important. So is the familia. All can be done with the careful coordination only a woman can accomplish. Even though it's their fault, what could be better than this life? Just take a look at the following evidence:

My vintage, faux-leopard coat. I'm pretty sure it doesn't get any better than my faux-leopard coat. Again, I could stand a little lipstick.

But the best, most fabulous thing of all:

Moments like this. Thank You.

What's your passion?

Yesterday I was watching that preacher Creflo Dollar on TV. I was kinda slow getting moving because I had stayed up all night painting due to my procrastination. I had to get Lavenderchick's furniture ready for her debut trip to Dallas Market. Well thank God I was lounging about, making myself available to hear Creflo Dollar's message of the day. He, like so many other preachers these days, was trying to help his mega-church audience find their true calling. As I lay there, on my wonderful bed that did not cost what it is worth, he asked me: "What are you passionate about?"

And I said, "well, beautification of all things. Furniture, walls, ceilings and souls. And then there's the outdoors: plants, landscapes, even views. I want to make the world beautiful to my eyes, wherever possible." Apparently, according to what Dr. Dollar told me personally yesterday morning, this passion of mine is God-given and that's why it is so intense and so fulfilling when I'm actually doing it. When you are floundering about without knowing what you were put here on earth to do, you first need to listen to your guts, your spirit, whatever you want to call it. Your calling is in there, just dying to get out.

I am so guilty of this in my former lives. We waste a lot of time listening to outside influences that tell us we need to be "professional," make lots of money, all that. So we do what we think we're supposed to do and don't feel good doing it. Who are we living for?

So Dr. Dollar further explained that the way we know that we're doing the right thing is that when you're doing it, you feel good, you're happy to do it, and your efforts bear fruit, to use a Biblical phrase. What I thought was really cool was when he referred to Luke 13:6-9, which is a parable Jesus used. In it he actually gives this guy a timeframe we can apply to our efforts and how to know when to give up the fight when it's not right. Mira!

"A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, 'For three years now I've been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven't found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?' " 'Sir,' the man replied, 'leave it alone for one more year, and I'll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.' "

So where am I going with all this? Due to my procastination issue, I had to stay up all night painting furniture for Lavenderchick's first trip to market. Her furniture had to be beautified at any cost to complement her extraordinary lavender products. Being tired as hell forced me to languish, and in my exhaustion I was finally still enough to hear the message so that I could tell all of you about it. I could go on and on, but my daughter tells me my blogs are too long. She, of the myspace generation that types in ghetto speak like dis and dat.

Here's a picture of Lavenderchick's little hutch "before." It's just starting to get it's first coat of Faux Effects Natural White Setcoat, which, by the way, is a superior base coat. It sticks to almost everything.


Here's the shelves we're transforming to hold additional product:

The shiny stuff is liquid sander. I wanted to be sure the Setcoat would stick and this finish was pretty glossy. This beautiful shelving unit is actually pressboard and the back is something akin to cardboard with graining imaged upon it. I tell you this only so you'll be impressed with the transformed product.

Tadaaaaaa! Isn't this a much better canvas to complement Lavenderchick's creations? Up close you can see the textures better (Faux Effects Faux Stone for a little texture), plus a glaze of Faux Effects Color Solvent mixed with Lusterstone in Antique Parchment (I kind of made that up), then a glaze of Color Solvent mixed with Earth Brown Faux Creme Color. Then Activator II. Thennnn, it needed a white wash so I mixed Color Solvent with white Setcoat real thin and activated that some too. It's really cool. You can see the pressboard shelf over to the right.


Here's some closeups:

Good Luck Deb and Jack at market.

A fresh look at stencils

Just before I set out for faux college, I clicked on over to the Royal Design Studio website, looking for some idea I had seen a few months back. And what to my wondering eyes did appear but a completely revamped website with an entire department devoted to "inspiration." Stencils have come a long way baby, from the days of country kitchens.

The pink, white and black one above really got me to thinking about my girls' bathroom. It could use a little jazzing up, and this stencil combination certainly would do it. Then there's the circles and rings stencil combination we're considering for one of the Sunday School rooms at church. We're trying to de-institutionalize it by removing the pale yellow paint and spice it up with bluish gray & chocolate.

Our plan is to throw a hip shag rug in the middle of the floor, slipcover some benchy chairs and put in a Playstation for those moments when we're not screaming about Jesus. (just kidding).

I've never met her, but Melanie Royals' stencils and the way they're combined with faux finishes can be really cool. Now the industry is moving into Modellos, which are like stencils but they are one-time use adhesive-backed designs. One application to a ceiling, for example and then you can work away, coming in with colors, textures, more glazes, without having to move the stencil around, cleaning and taping and lining up and taping some more.

Here's one more stencil combination I like from the revamped Royal Design Studio website:

I can see some of thes floating around my daughter's rooms. Or, I may like this one better:

Just remember stencils always look better in combination with some kind of softening or aging faux glazes. That way, the design is there, but it's not screaming at you.