This table is perhaps my favorite DIY project to date. In fact, I do not think I will ever make anything that tops how much I love it and the process behind it. To explain, the table is an old, wooden thing that was about to be thrown out by a family member; it was my grandparents’ and was warped beyond repair. But because I was a broke graduate student at the time and a sentimental sap, I quickly grabbed it for my one-bedroom apartment. My aunt gave words of advice about how a table cloth would hide its not-so-cute nature and about how the unevenness would be minor. And she was right. With a splash of material and a nonchalant attitude, I had me a functioning table, albeit old and ugly underneath.

If I think hard enough, I could remember when I decided to mosaic the top. But why stress about those exacts? The important thing is that the idea surfaced. And I’ve never been one to think fully through matters, and before I knew it, I was at Hobby Lobby and Michaels buying supplies. I bought small packages of mosaic tiles (red squares) and then larger red-and-white tiles that had more of a vintage feel. These tiles seemed all too expensive for my budget. My frugal personality could not believe the cost of these little suckers, and then I just kept thinking about the size of the table! The free table was slowly morphing into quite the expensive piece of furniture! I knew I needed an alternative, so I left the costly craft world and went to Home Depot — best decision ever. Cheap bathroom tiles — black and white — did the trick. I loaded up. Once home, my hammer and I got to work. I wrapped tiles in an old towel and broke them to pieces. With a mix of tiles that all matched my color scheme, I designed my table and started grouting.

Maybe any normal human would have explored a how-to manual prior. Not me. I jumped in without much, if any, exploration. After all, how hard could it be!? You glue down the tiles, and then, you grout over them. Seems simple enough. Naturally, I had some hiccups, but nothing major. The main mistake that I made was that I severely underestimated the amount of time it would take to rub off all the leftover grout on the top of the tiles, a process you have to complete to prevent the grout from drying on the surface. Minor. But my miscalculation did cause me to miss a bridal shower. (Luckily, my best friend, the bride-to-be, understood and probably was not surprised that my creative inspiration took over. And I reminded myself that I had attended her other showers in efforts to not feel too bad.) Now, with no where to be and no need to rush, I scrubbed and grouted for what seemed like an eternity.

The table top looked good, and I was pleased with the design and the way the black, red, and white played together as well as with the perfect pinch of store-bought tiles to accent the more practical side. But then, the wooden, dilapidated table itself (the side and legs) seemed out of place. The next day (or a couple days later) I found myself buying black paint to outline the edge of the table. Satisfied and tired, that was all I did. People complimented the product. And people made suggestions. The main one being that I needed to clear-coat the top, to even it out. I listened to them and even toyed with the idea. But I never got around to it. Two years later, after graduate school, my table and I moved to North Carolina. It was that first year there that I decided to finally paint the table legs and my wooden chairs black. So one night, I painted and painted and painted and now have what I consider to be a completed treasure. I have decided never to even out or clear-coat the top of the table; I like it just as it is — unfinished and symbolic of the unevenness in life and our never-ending creative processes.

[Originally published on previous blog on May 22, 2014.]