It's impossible to predict what the future holds. But in my humble opinion, that's where adventure breeds and life's curve balls are thrown. Because let's be real, planning's for fools.
Allow me to take you back and start from the beginning.
Over the last few years, I'd mastered the unfortunate “skill” of neatly packing away enough treasures in a one bedroom apartment to fill 4 houses. So as you can imagine, nightmare struck when my fellow and I packed up last summer and moved into a studio. A studio with enough windows and sunlight to make your heart explode, a porch, a backyard from the tropics, and only one showstopper: no closet. No problem. I threw a couple armoires on the porch, because honestly, a little fresh air's good for ya when you're in nothing but your skinnies picking out clothes in the morning. And that left me with one last dilemma: weatherproof shoe storage, which happens to be overpriced and seemingly easy to whip up yourself.
That same fella, Mikey, was once coined by the name "Shitty Contraption Guy" for his ability to rig up solutions for contractual problems such as this one. So when I bought mass amounts of 2" x 4"s and plywood from home depot, I went directly to the doorstep of his shop to beg for help. His talent, however, reaches far beyond that of being Shitty Contraption Guy, and enters more into the realm of being a downright metal-fabricating, craft God. When I arrived, seeing him fully engulfed in a project of his own, I asked if he could show me how to make “just one cut” on the saw and assured him, despite my own doubts, I would figure the rest out on my own.
One cut later and I lost all sanity. My mind was racing with concepts, designs and ideas that couldn't be materialized fast enough. How in the name of all that is holy could I close my eyes at night knowing there was a workshop waiting for me the next morning? I was 5 years old again, every morning felt like Christmas and nothing would ever be the same. When I wasn't at my real job, I was cutting everything in sight, in half. Sawdust was everywhere. And the honeymoon phase was in full effect.
After completing the shoe rack, a coffee table, window boxes, a breakfast tray, side table and headboard, my studio was full, my heart was fuller, and beginning a search for a lucrative way to continue building went without question. The answer to my prayers? Etsy.
Etsy, for me, was one of those things you feel like you've been subconsciously waiting for your whole life and then it smacks you in the face, leaving you to wonder how you ever lived without it.
It was raining, my favorite weather, and also an entirely unimportant fact to this story; but it's what made these moments stand out to me. I love cookies. I love cookies more than almost anything, which until this particular moment, had never benefited my life, and had rather only hindered my health. But in this moment, raining, craving cookies, the book "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" crossed my mind. If you give a girl a saw, your once immaculate shop will become filled to the brink with sawdust, your home will begin to accumulate mass amounts of furniture and those pieces of furniture will cycle out weekly leaving you constantly wondering if you've come home to the right house. If you give a girl a saw, the need to buy clothes will be replaced by the undying urgency to buy every tool, and make-up and nail polish will slowly be replaced by dirt, wood stain, paint and general filth. And just like that, If You Give a Girl a Saw was born.
Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you I've never been one to stay on the same track for a lengthy period of time. I'm easily excited by new concepts and ideas, and it's never long before the next venture grabs me by the britches and I'm off and running.
This time, however, things feel different. There's a strong sense of permanence. And I dig it every day.
Thanks for the saw, Mikey. I'd be nothing without it.
If You Give a Girl a Blog.