Just because it is physically possible to turn something into something else, doesn't mean it should be done. A beautiful object does not always need to be a lamp or a curio shelf or a napkin ring. Everyone seems to be turning everything into everything else at this point. And sometimes, a cigar box is just a cigar box... So, I was pumped to literally stumble upon a creative reuse concept that pulled me out of my craft indifference while walking one of my favorite places on earth - the beaches of Lopez Island, WA.
I'm not reinventing the wheel with this one but rather putting a fresh spin on a seventies trend. Driftwood. Don't worry, I'm not imposing it randomly into a macrame wall hanging or creating a clunky mobile or sand candle. I've put together something more substantial and more, dare I say, functional - a headboard. And once I pictured it, I found the three perfect pieces of wood to build it with within eight feet of where I stood.
It was conceived to be a contribution to the beautiful simple beach house our good friends have welcomed us to every summer for many summers. Navigating the tastes and feelings of our hosts was trickier than designing and building the piece. But decor is a personal thing and a bed is a very personal thing.
Okay, so I've made their bed. And, apparently, they are happy to lie in it. And drift...
For obvious political and health reasons (I'm gay and have been diagnosed as tulle averse), I have issues with "marriage" as it exists right now. But weddings? Well, that's a different story!!! Especially those which I would have planned exactly as they happened, but didn't have to. I'm pleased to say I run in a social circle not bound to any degree of formality when throwing these events. Sometimes my friends steer clear of the proverbial envelope altogether. My "partner" and I recently ditched our kids and spent a weekend in rural, rustic, Ojai, CA at just such a celebration.
The first indication that this wouldn't be your run-of-the-mill church wedding arrived in the mail on craft paper card stock printed in chocolate brown and barn red. Location instructions included meeting a trolley at the hotel for a short ride to the barn where it would all go down.
The soon-to-be hyphenate Ms. Kate Powers - Puryear (below center), is escorted from the trolley to the hay bale alter by her step father (below right) and father (below left). The love between the bride and groom was electric, the passionate ceremony was concise. I believe the officiate was cast thru Ford Models and licensed via the "Minute Minister" iPhone app. The simple farm setting was at once disarmingly casual and movingly poetic. Podunk Elegance. Fantastic. One useful tip omitted from the invite - getting straw out of dress socks.
A glowing, blissful Ms. Kate Powers and her handsome husband Mr. Scott Puryear (above). Here's to a long joy-filled life together, brimming with love and two-steppin'. Hot dang!!!
For the first two hours of our visit to friends Joe and Maria's second home on the north fork of Long Island, I was having an out-of-body experience. From the moment we pulled into the gravel drive of the old ship captain's manse, I functioned only as my eyes. We meandered across the lush, shaggy front lawn and I existed solely as the lens of my iPhone camera. Met enthusiastically on the front porch by our hosts, I was only vaguely aware of the greetings and hugs, as if heard thru a tunnel. I mumbled the occasional, "so beautiful..." or "wow" but was seriously lost in visual moments which all vied for my closer exploration and ultimate respite.
The house was built in the 1860's and does not betray that century and a half that has passed when viewed from the street. But get inside and you are enthusiastically welcomed by vignettes of furnishings and art spanning the decades (with a comfortable, gorgeous emphasis on customized mid century thrift). I was in heaven. A perfect balance had been struck between respect for the bones of the house and a humorous commentary or outright rejection of it's Victorian formality.
You might think this simple idea works only if you happen to be as gifted as the guy who did this mural, Los Angeles based artist Matt Sharack. Well, you might be right - but I feel like chalk is a primitive, organic medium suited to imperfection. There, you now have license to scribble and come up with something beautiful. What I responded to about this concept was not so much the undeniable brilliance of the art but it's shape and scale. It plays with the old school placement of living room art as our folks might have hung it. It would be funny and beautiful to do a random grouping of smaller "pieces" (maybe one hangs slightly crooked). I think abstract would be equally as cool.
The entire wall has been painted with chalkboard paint and "seasoned " with chalk to mottle the surface and give it a patina.