It's The Journey That Matters

Funny thing, but I 

was recently inspired by a dock.  

More specifically, its sun-bleached deck boards.

Their driftwood color and deep patina captivated me.  

I knew I had to try replicating it with paint.

I also saw a neat-o artifact in the 

Christmas issue of Coastal Living magazine.  

A simple, metal compass rose brought instant character to a beach shack's cedar siding.  

Knew I wanted to paint its form as well.

Thought I'd combine those 

two elements on rough hewn boards.  

Since we've been married for enough
decades, I can comfortably bring 

crazy woodworking ideas to 

my sweet hubby without him batting 

an eye.  He easily interprets my mind's 

vision into expansive canvases of 

reclaimed wooden boards.  

He enjoys the challenge, or so I tell myself.

After layering a trio of thinned chalk paints, the background started to resemble a weathered dock.

A stick of chalk -- like those from school days -- 

lets me quickly sketch and tinker with the design.

A quote from Ernest Hemingway helps express 

what I'm feeling inside.  The compass directions, 

N and W, represent amazing career opportunities.  One is to the North of my home, 

while the other is to the West.

Each are a step of faith into my future.

Barn red seemed like a good accent color.

I like the look of grey with red.  

It's a seasonal departure from my

summery sea glass aquas and river blues.

All is going well this afternoon, until 

news is received of a family member's 

passing.  I put my paintbrush down 

for the day and say a prayer 

in honor of her journey.

Elaine, you will be missed.

A Little Uncertainty Can Be Good For You

After I resigned from my position at The College of William & Mary, I knew I had to put my mind and physical efforts toward something and I needed to do it right away.  I like to stay busy with activities that seriously challenge me.  Now more than ever it was key, as I learned to navigate my new life.  This stage was so different from my decades of commuting, technology and academia.  Unfortunately, the career shift -- and the passing of my mother (Alzheimers) -- resulted in a strange loss of identity for me.  Thankfully, that very painful phase didn't last, but admittedly, it was incredibly difficult.  No sugar coating it.

Maybe the ensuing months of grant work as a technology consultant to the College helped wean me?  Perhaps.  But honestly, I believe the real progress came when I finally dared to embrace my own passions... the ones that were put on the back burner during career and child-rearing years.

Hard to believe, but this intensely private, technology-and-business-centric gal is getting her art on.  Decorative arts, that is! 

I've painstakingly re-painted just about every room in my house, not to mention re-doing curtains and so many of our furnishings.

Gone is the Ralph Lauren men's club look (classic, yes, but I deeply craved change on so many levels).  Enter pale, watery, beach glass tones and lots of crisp, clean white.

Originally, my goal was to get the house in 'honey, stop the car' condition and put it on the market for a quick sale.  We could then move to the Northern Neck and live happily ever after.  Well, that hasn't happened... not yet.  My hubby has been such a good sport, living with my life changes and the smell of paint fumes for months on end.  Relatives and neighbors have half-jokingly teased that I can always come to their house, should I run out things to decorate at home.  I've taken to Annie Sloan chalk paint like a duck to water.  (Boy, that stuff is addictive!)  My sewing machine has had quite a workout, too.  So has my brain.

I've seen beautiful and creative homes made virtual reality by innovative, smart young bloggers like Miss Mustard Seed, Perfectly Imperfect, Restore Interiors, Frugal Farmhouse Design, Centastional Girl, Nesting Place and A Beach Cottage.  These amazing women, whom I've never met, have truly impacted my life and how I view my own possibilities.  And Nate Berkus, you rock.  Seriously.  I thank you all for the lessons you've taught me and the inspiration you (real life heroes) seem to naturally exude.

Most surprisingly, I've started this grammatically incorrect blog about my journey.  I'm daring to share the things I'm experiencing and creating along the way.  The truth?  It feels like running down the street in just your underwear.  (Disclaimer: no actual experience with that one, but I can imagine it would increase one's adrenaline level accordingly!)

I'm even planning to show/sell my creations at an upcoming farmers market in Irvington.  (Serious gulp!)  How's that for embracing uncertainty?!

Another truth?  I haven't felt this passionate and alive in quite a while...

(To learn more, visit tammythrift.com today!)