Today, I did some painting. Three years ago, Danny and I found this dresser at a garage sale by my parents’ house. It was twenty dollars, and when we lived in the apartment, it lived in our bedroom. The green color was fine, but it was never really our favorite. 

But, when we moved to our house, it seemed to lose its purpose. We moved it all around, and finally, it found a place as our record player holder. But, the dark green didn’t really go with anything else in the room. So, finally, after years and years, I began painting it. 

Painting is really therapeutic. I think it’s really rewarding to take something lackluster and turn it into something beautiful. I love feeling like I am helping something old and forgotten feel loved again. 

I think this all stems from a picture book I read when I was little. I think the book was called, “The House that Had Enough,” and in it, a little girl doesn’t take care of any of her things (she doesn’t make her bed or put the cap on the toothpaste or hang up her towels), so her house picks up and runs away from her. When I was little, I was really scared that if I didn’t take care of my things, they would leave. 

I think that’s why I like giving new life to old things. 

Or, maybe I just do projects because I don’t like sitting still, and I get really lonely when Danny is at school. 


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