One Man's Trash...

…is another man’s treasure. In 2012 I rehabbed my first piece of furniture. It all started with a dumpster dive. My husband Marc brought home this worn out, well loved (especially by a dog), patio chair that had truly seen better days. We had little furniture in our new condo and not exactly extra green to buy a new patio set. The arm rests were scratched beyond belief and the handles had been chewed to the nub. I thought it would be fun to fix it up, give it some paint and give it a second wind.

A full time job, a new condo, and a rowing team competition season gave me all the excuses I needed to procrastinate on such a simple project. Once I started, however, I truly felt joy in feeling not only the wood, but my creativity transform from a drawing on a page, to something I could touch and feel.

I always loved to draw. Pencil, ink and watercolor on paper were my mediums of choice. I never felt as alive and invested in art as I would sitting in front of whatever my muse for hours to create my vision on paper. Not once did I think it was more than a hobby. Not until Rome. Italy and art classes gave me confidence to do more than just draw for fun. I felt as if I could use it to see things in different ways, to use my eyes and hands to tell a story. Even with all of that confidence, I took a different path. I set my talent to the side for more practical pursuits.

That chair brought it back. Every crack filled, wood polished, and paint brush stroke gave me energy. I felt centered, focused and anchored. So it became the Anchor Chair. I sold the chair to a wonderful woman who loved it as much as I did. She had no idea it came from the dumpster, that it had a lifetime of bumps and bruises, but she saw the beauty in it. The beauty and meaning behind a single chair is worth more than the $150 she gave me, and I’ll never forget the joy it brought both of us.