I know you will need a picture, but the story is as follows:
Gifted a spray painted black curio cabinet. Pretty cool looking. If you ignore the paint and the bearing life has given it. That was months ago. I had a brilliant idea for it and started right away. Clean, sand, wipe, rinse, repeat until at least ready to start working. Color? Yes, oddly a beige color as base. It was going to be nice and bright and wonderful. Until I came to the paint inside the doored cabinet. And it just didn’t work.
That’s when it started to stare at me, every time I went to work. It laughed at me as I attempted various options of the look I thought it should have. Sanding and starting over… time after time. So I pushed it aside and moved on. And still each time I entered the studio, it wanted attention. It asked to be worked on, and I did. There were flaws I had missed that needed touch up. I did it. But still the curio mocked me. The curio demanded my attention and rejected each attempt at recreation.
Apparently, it had its own ideas. Apparently, the Curio knew what it wanted to be. Rejecting me and my ideas as I tried to put its voice into a finish. I feel closer now. But it still fights me. It knows what to wants to be. I still don’t. Arrogantly, like Michelangelo with a block of marble, I try to see what is inside the block waiting to come out. Its dark, not light. But not truly dark.
Sometimes I look at it and wonder, will it eat me? Will it take me?
But its only wood and glass.