an accidental painting
Our house has walls of white and for the most part the general characteristics of an old farmhouse, and I mean that in a good way. (Except for the mice.) I don’t mind the walls of white as they can serve as a neutral canvas in which to show off bold accents and art. But the living room was seriously lacking in that something bold. There is one uninterrupted, white wall that needs and craves one big, bad, bold piece of art…some sort of abstract painting that would fit the space well and add a surprising pop of color, form and texture. I only had a vague idea in my mind how that might look, and a limited wallet to fulfill that dream. So that became a low priority. Something to think about later. Meanwhile, I had an asparagus patch to weed. So that’s what I focused on this morning. Asparagus patch. Which took me a ridiculously long time to hack through due to a dense sprawl of unauthorized growth. Almost made me want the drought back. (Well no, not really) But it got done, and once done, I returned my tools and gloves back to the garage. And that’s where I saw this lying against some ladders, wood and other “random stuff”:
I’ve seen it before, I know where it came from. Pete’s brother Carl used a scrap piece of tin to protect the concrete foundation of the corn crib from errant paint drippings while he repainted it this past summer. I didn’t think much of it then. Pete must have dragged it into the garage at some point and that’s when I saw it, glanced at it and put my garden tools down. I sort of glanced at it again. I tried to act casual and meandered over pretending “nothing unusual going on here folks”. But I couldn’t stop thinking, “hey, what if I cleaned it up a little?” And “oh my god, look at that metallic shine!” And “wouldn’t that shape be perfect for that wall?” So I started taking measurements, then I started taking photos, then I started doing some Photoshop work…and then I finally presented my proposal to Pete. In short; to clean it and hoist it up. In the living room, above the sofa.
And he bought it, he gave it his approval. Of course he was laughing the whole time, but at least he was willing to give it a try. He even dubbed it “Barn Splash”. So I gave it a good hosing down and let it dry off and we hauled it in. Now, it seems no wall, ceiling or floor is really quite straight in this house so we pretty much resorted to the eye-ball technique of measurement. It works for me and it now hangs on the white wall, our new piece of art or something:
I’m not sure I can call it art…I can if I want to fool people but let’s be honest. It’s a scrap of tin I spied in the garage that wasn’t busy doing anything else, and I liked its appearance and shape. So does it become art because I took it and decided it to be so? Guess what? I don’t care. I just like it, and it keeps getting better. As the daylight shifts and changes so too does the scrap of tin with its daubs of paint. Maybe, like the Velveteen Rabbit, it will become real.
Or maybe, someone will say what Pete just said an hour ago…”hey, what’s this scrap of tin doing in here?”
Yeah, you’re hilarious Pete : )