It’s all blue. Until it isn’t.

Stripping paint can be meditative. It doesn’t require a whole lot of active brainpower, so my mind is free to wander while my hands are busy with the repetitive motions of heat, scrape…heat, scrape…heat, scrape.

Usually the house is quiet. Sometimes I pop in AirPods and listen to podcasts or music (it’s really the only chance I have to listen to Hamilton in its entirety), sometimes I just listen to the sound of the heat gun and the ambient noise of an old house.

Then, after several hours have gone by, and my body is sore, I get to step back and look at my work.

And…guys…it looks like I barely made a dent.

Stripping paint can SUCK.

So, yeah, I’ve made progress. But then I look around and see how much more there is to do. And my tired body and mind just. can’t. even. And yet, the project keeps bringing me back because it’s nothing but possibility. Each scrape brings me closer to my vision.

So, yeah, I’ll be working on this for the rest of my days. But here are some pics of the before and during.