Genius, genius

Probably the most genius thing I've ever done
has been to put tweezers in my car.
{image}

I never notice I have a forest growing until I am in the
car, far away from my make-up bag, and most likely late
for something. But never again will my eyebrows
be uncultivated; I have now perfected the
art of plucking my eyebrows while waiting at lights, which I
do a lot of throughout the day. My "kids" even tell me when
the lights turn green. It's like a game to them.

I talk way too much about unsightly hair on this blog.

My Mustache and Willies

I do support the troops and all, I just get the willies every time
I get pulled over. The willies are those really awful chilly feelings you
get when you are trouble. The exchange is just awkward to me.
Parent/child relationship feel.

I had a terrible, no good, very awful day yesterday.

I was coming out from an appointment when one of my
client's mother called me; I'm an awesome listener and I may
not have been paying attention as great as I should have. I may
have pulled out a little close in front of a vehicle. It wasn't that awful
though. Really. But I do realize that I am distracted and
pull into the nearest store parking lot to finish my call.

I am a good citizen for pulling over right?

Naturally, I was surprised when I get out of my car to grab
something from the trunk and a very menacing police officer is
leaning up against my car. Whoa!! Where'd you come from?!

"Do you know what you did?" he said.

"Uh... you mean pulling out in front of that car out there? I didn't
see him, sir. I am truly sorry."

He looked really mean. It was making me nervous.
"Do you know why you did that? That is called reckless driving."

"I really didn't see him sir until I was already out in the lane..."

"You know why?" he interrupts. "Because you were on that thing,"
pointing at my offending cell phone sitting on the seat.

Man, this is going to make my mom so happy. She is always telling
me to get off my phone when I drive because I'm too distracted.
I realize denial is never going to work. I pull out the big guns: sympathy.

"Yes, sir. You are right. May I tell you why I was so distracted?"
He looked really mean. Did I mention that?

Silence.

"Can I?"

More glaring. And then a slight nod.

"Well sir, I am a PSR Worker and that happened to be a call from
one of the client with not the greatest news. I really didn't see that other
car. I realized I was far too distracted, thus while I pulled into this lot
to finish the call. I am usually quite a responsible driver."

(PSR Worker and police have to work together occasionally. I had
a friend who got out of a $80 ticket because she was able to convince
them that her driving record was really important to keep clean to be
able to transport clients. Handy knowledge in times like this.)

He asks me lots of questions: who do I work for, where was I headed, ect.
He takes my license and registration and tells me to go sit down while he
does his little laptop thing in the car. I am biting my nails. I got a ticket
not two months ago will that effect how awesome I look as a responsible
PSR/citizen?
He walks back I give him my "sorry-I-am-such-an-idiot-and-this-will-never-
happen-again" look. He tells me that I really need to watch my driving
because I have two citations from 2010. I want to tell him that that was
soooo last year; I am a reformed woman! But I don't.

A not so bad interaction and I got away with nothing but a nose bleed.
No seriously my nose started bleeding a few minutes later.

Life could have gotten a lot better, but it didn't.
I went and picked up one of my kids. A six year old who is learning
English. I am talking with him about meditation (right what six year old
is going to use meditation?) when he starts pointing and laughing at my face.
All my insecurities come out.
Did I write on myself with pen?
Do I have a big zit that needs popping?
Is my nose really that ugly?
What did I eat for lunch?

He blurts out,"You have a mustache!"
I hurry and turn around to see who of my co-workers heard.
I'm dying in my seat. I try to hurry and talk to him about making fun
of people but he is just laughing too hard. So I do the only logical thing:

I put him in time-out.
(He deserved it. He was being mean to me.)

Then run to the bathroom to check out this mustache.

Truth: I use Nair.
And we are close that I can tell you that.
I hadn't used it in a while, but honestly it wasn't that bad. No black hairs,
just a little long around the edges of my mouth.

We had a good long discussion about making fun of people.

Mister says he doesn't see the stache. But he is too sweet so
honestly can't be trusted.

I'm Human

I'm going to talk about regrets today.

I've got a lot of them. I'm only going to talk about two.

It's a little scary to advertise your flaws all over the
internet, but I feel that forgiveness and honesty are so great.
I've have found through blogging
(although there was a few months there where I dropped off)
that there is definitely something therapeutic about finding
those who struggle and are like you in some way and letting them
know you are listening. I found that having people tell me they've
felt that way before, or they wish they could give me a hug, or
they agree with a statement is such a HALLELUJAH moment for me.

And the big news is:
I've decided that the time has come for me to start liking myself.

And I have a few disagreements with myself that I really need to get over.
First of all, I'm going to stop whining. I know that this might take
awhile because I like getting stuck in my emotions and feeling justified in them.
But dwelling on the negative is very unpleasant for me to be around;
and its me I'm listening to!

Weight. I hate that word. I hate the guilt I feel after failing another day
at resisting all the little "extras" I put in my mouth.
It doesn't sound hard, really.
It is just dieting. Just watching what you put in your body. Math really.

The funny thing about weight is that if you have a little extra love, you
think about it first thing in the morning, you think about it during the day,
you think about it every time you put anything in your mouth, you think
about it when you go to sleep .... you get the picture. It is constantly pounding
away at your brain. It is a consistent guilt that nags and nags and nags.
Its a vicious cycle that leads you to more fatty snacks, more guilt,
and more weight. Cuz what does it matter if I eat that HoHo, I'm already
this way?
I've watched myself over the last few years, which have been stressful and
some of the hardest in my life, as I've put on the pounds.
I've convinced myself that 5 lbs isn't that much and I can deal with it.
I tell myself that's easy weight to lose.
I've found that there is no easy weight to lose and a lot of 5 lbs have
added on.

I know that I'm not obese, but I am not happy being the weight I am.
I'm uncomfortable with myself.
And I refuse to continue this cycle for the rest of my life.
I am shedding myself of pounds and guilt. I am going to start loving me.
I want to be happy in my skin. I want my confidence and self-esteem restored.
I've been working on it for about two weeks, with a guilty Canadian Tim Tam
Slam weekend in the mix, and I don't know if I've lost any. It is frustrating.
I'm not going to weight myself though. That motivation makes me depressed.
There is no easy way to do this. So I'm plugging away at eating less carbs,
more fruits, more veggies, and more activity.
Funny right after the Tim Tam Slam episode yesterday. I only had two.
Serious.
I'll keep you updated.
And I would love your stories, advice, and encouragement.

Divorced. My label. I find myself thinking about my failed marriage
a lot. I read books trying to understand what went wrong. They make me
wonder if things could have worked out differently. They make me ache
because I was the one that threw my hands up and walked away. They
make me feel flawed, piety, and untrustworthy.
I have someone I love dearly in my life now and I live with the guilt that
I've done something to betray them. That I'm not the person they deserve
nor want because dang it! look what I did. That if they really saw what
happened, if they really could understand me far more than what my
words say, they would leave.

I went to a counselor twice after it all. I wish I could have gone more, but
I didn't want to deal with the fact that I wasn't happy yet despite the fact
that I took drastic measures to change my situation. I mostly sat on her
couch and cried. But she said something to me that meant so much:

I have to stop living with "what if" and start living with "what now?"

In that room, sitting awkwardly on that couch I felt that my
Heavenly Father loved me. I felt a ray of hope. I know that there was
no happiness in my marriage. It is a dark time in my memory.
I was depressed. On the verge of suicidal, and I'm not being dramatic.
I know what I did was right for me.
Its been a bumpy road. And one that I'm not done traveling because
its left me terrified of marriage and sex. But looking back it is amazing
how much I've grown. There is no denying to myself that I'm much better.
I know that there will be a time that I will feel complete--once I get rid
of the little devilish guilt I feel inside.

I have to remind myself that I don't regret my marriage.
I don't.
I just don't recommend it.

It takes time to heal. It takes time to change.

Chalk

It ain't summer till you can get out the chalk!
Really my job ain't bad sometimes.


In college,
I'd been flirting with this guy shamelessly for two weeks.
And when he finally asked me on a date, I was thrilled.
He called me the day of and told me that we were
going to go play with chalk and have a picnic.
I am one that is definitely okay with "kid" dates
on occasion. He picks me up and announces that we are
going to chalk it up all over BYU-I's campus.

Should have gone with my gut feeling and said something
about what a bad idea that was.
But I wanted to be cool.
We spent the majority of the date with campus security,
mops, and lots of weird looks from students.

And we never went out again.

{source}

I still like chalk.

A Happiness Project

"There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy."
~Robert Stevenson

{photo by Jaya Photography}

I'd always thought that someday I'd grow up.
I'd would do all the things that someday I said I would do.

I'd remember people's birthdays without being reminded
by my mom or facebook. And in so doing I'd sent them cute
little homemade cards in the mail. I figured that I'd get out
of bed in the morning with enough time to do my hair and
take a shower without having to chose between the two.

I'd be an expert photographer, and use Photoshop
like a pro. I'd start eating less crap and taking care of my body.
I'd be a granola-type person and run barefoot
during the summer and understand my body enough to know
what it needed.

I'd spent more time with friends and less with myself.
I'd read the classic and be cultured enough to talk about politics
and offer logical explanations in philosophical discussions.

I'd be more fashionable, but still comfortable enough with my
body to wear jeans and a t-shirt without always having
to adjust to hide certain undesirable parts.

I'd draw and have time to relax. I'd do art for the simple
joy of doing it. I wouldn't watch TV while I ate.
I'd use my running shoes.

I'd keep in touch with old friends.
I'd find a niche just for me with enough challenge to keep
me excited and motivated.
I'd stop wishing to be someone else.

And of course with all of this, I exhibit a contradictory nature:
I want to take myself more seriously yet accept myself for what
and who I am and was.
I want to make myself someone who I'd admire, yet love myself now.
I wanted to have structure with my time, yet be able to be flexible, free,
and able to engage in any pursue that fancies me.
I want to not worry about the future, yet hold on to my ambitions and drive.

Once I lose those extra ten pounds, or get a better job, or find the right
guy, I'd be the person I want to be and I'd be happy. Or so I thought.

BUT....
I'm not sure it works that way and all the little wishes and goals
boil down to one. My ultimate goal has always been
happiness.

Then I remembered I started this blog. This crazy, lonely blog
that was suppose to record my own little journey from being
the sad, hate-myself-and-my-current-situation person I turned
into after my divorce into someone who was actively engaged in
creating a life worth living.

So, I welcome myself back. Hello Kendra.
And hello to you!

Sunday's Musings

I haven't done my Monday's Musings for a while and

while I know it isn't Monday, I do have some musings.
So, Sunday's Musings here we go:

1- When I have a nail break or chip it doesn't matter what is
going on at that time or who I am with
I want to file that sucker down. I rub it against my jeans or
anything I can find. I never bite though.
And I have to have all my nails the same length.
And I can't stand having my nails short. I feel naked.

2-I have one freckle on my palm. I love it for some reason.

3- I hate whiskers, or beards, or mustaches on men. I like me
a clean shaven gent. I have this theory that your attachment
(or dis-attachment) to facial hair comes from whether
your dad had it (or didn't.)
Mine didn't. Thus, I think facial hair is gross.

4- If subtitles are on, even if the show is in English, I always end up reading
them. We have them set on our TV right now and I can't figure out how
to get them off. It is annoying me.

5- This is the funniest thing. It is called Personas. If you don't know
about it, you should. Since getting my new computer I've been using
Mozilla Firefox browser. If you are using the same, which you should
because all my nerdy computer science friends tell me its is safer,
follow this link to dress up your browser in all sorts of fun ways.
I like these:

But I'm wear Mr. Dr. Seuss right now
(I really like that I Love Lucy one though):Yep, I'm changing it.

6- Do you love your grapes frozen?
I do. They are delightful little balls of icy goodness.
I buy grapes just to freeze them.

7- I don't know whether to be sad or glad it is fall.
I love the colors that fall produces, but at the same time it
is the end of summer and the green. However, I love the smell of
winter and how it pricks your nose. Fall is a transitory state-
a pretty one.

{pictures from a walk I went on today}

8- I hated pineapple when I was younger, but I love it now.
I still hate coconut though.

9- I am only mentioning this because my roommate and I were
discussing it, but I love nibble kissers. You know, like a tiny little
lip nibble is cute to me.

10- I collect quotes. I have at least three books full of quotes
I've written down.

I am.

I put a girl in detention today. It was awful.
I hope I never have to do that again. I was really struggling
to not get in a power struggle with her. I failed a bit.
Teaching is a tough thing.
But really rewarding as well.
I hope that I can relax eventually. I get really nervous
my first hour class (the poor guinea pigs) and by the
second have a better grasp of things.

I am: finding my weaknesses and strengths daily.

I think: nutella comes from heaven.

I have: some of the greatest friends and family and
a really sweet Van Gogh doll. (Just mentioned it for you, Tara.)

I know: I am a child of God.

I miss: college life.

I feel: a bit chubby; I just ate half a pizza by myself.

I wish: things made more sense at night.

I hate: public nose-pickers and doing laundry.

I fear: failure and being alone.

I care: far too much what others think of me.

I lose: my cellphone all the time, and keys.

I search: for redheads everywhere I go. I don't know
why, I just like red hair.

I love: new socks, clean bathrooms, and cuddly babies.

I am inspired: by this picture.

{image}
I always: layer my clothing. I don't ever go anywhere with
just one shirt on.

I never: use salt and pepper on my food.

I write: because I love meeting new people and telling
my stories.

I win: at the card game Speed.

I listen: to Josh Groban. I had a dream last night where we kissed.
It was pretty sweet.

I never: drink enough water.

I usually can be found: with all the paper, pencils, and other
various art supplies.

I'm scared: of losing my teeth.

I don't always: think I do things right.

I dance: when I am doing the dishes.

I need: a hug often.

ThE ZoNe

There is something magical about producing something that wasn't there

before. For me, it is art. I get so excited when I sit down and release all

that pent up energy into something that has been playing across my mind.

Something that has wanted to get out for a while. It is so satisfying to

look at something you did and know that it is the very essence

of who you are. It doesn't have to be perfect. BUT don't let the fear of failure

discourage you from trying. You will be surprised by the your own

capability. It is something that I feel I must do to understand life.

It clears my head and makes me feel like I have purpose.

{this is my neice Tayla with a twist inspired by the Fauves, Acrylic}
For the big day tomorrow my cooperating teacher (whom I'll call Mrs. CT)
asked if I would create a small slide show introducing myself to the kids. For some odd reason, kids think that teachers live in the school and don't have lives of their own. Mrs. CT also said to include some of my artwork to show the kid that yes, art teachers know how to draw. (This is great for me. I have the hardest time drawing on the chalkboard.)

I've been going through some of my old work (most what I've done in classes at school) and it was so fun to look at. I'd thought I would share a little bit of some of the things I've done. I've added some quotes about creating or art that I related to. Enjoy!

{Study done with watercolor}

"God didn’t give me a choice. Art is not just something I create but something I am. It makes me one with my personal God. When I see something of beauty—landscape, still life objects—I need to be a part of it; through the creative process, I become one with my subject. My subject’s soul and my soul intertwine." -ritzymitzi
{Perfume Ad, Watercolor}
"I paint because it is the only time when I can be truly me and only me..."
-Anni

{Study, Watercolor}

"If you are true artist, you make art throughout your entire life. You have no choice." -John Mars

{head study, Graphite Pencil}

"I paint, sketch because I live art. Look, see, observe, smell, taste, feel. Art is what we are. It's actually an extension of ourselves which God himself gave to us at birth. Sit behind your easel and smell fresh paint and mediums and if you are not excited deep within, then you are not destined to produce art. It has different meanings for us all, but all in a nutshell "We just have to!"
{My roommate who was a dance major, Oil}

{Figure study, Pastel}

{Flower, Watercolor}

"I started painting in my 50s and it totally changed how I look at my world and how I live my life. When I paint I have total freedom to create whatever I chose to. The fact that there are no rules is so liberating and that freedom spills over into my daily life. I love it!" -Margidy

{China girl inspired by my visit to China, Pen, Ink, and Gouche}

."The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before. Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty. Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty." -Uchtdorf

{China woman, Gouche on wood sanded off}

"No one can tell me I'm wrong."

{Illustration Study, Acrylic}

{Flowers, Gouche}

{Elephant, Charcoal and Gouche}

The COW Story (involving poop)

The sun was setting behind me. The colors blending in with the cloud

of dust from my tires as I speed along the dirt road. I stuck my hand out

of the window making an airplane and letting the wind blow it up and down.
It's harvest time!

All day long there is the sound of machines going in the fields. A fleet of trucks

run along the roads taking wheat, barley, and oats to their rightful places. The

sticky hotness and the itchy cloud of grain dust penetrate the air. It is

definitely miserable. But I love it. I didn't always.

Living on a farm sounds romantic and appeasing. Let me tell you it isn't.

When I was younger I hated the farm with a PASSION. I wanted to live

in a big city full of culture and art. I loved art. However, I was stuck in a town

where the nearest thing that could be called artistic was a cattle brand.

When I applied for college I was required to write an essay addressing

the question of why the college should choose me over other applicants.

I told them a story:

It was a stormy day. Actually, it had been raining for about three days.

Dad hauled my little brother and me out of the house to sort out

some cows that needed to go to auction.

We chased them down the alleyway into the sorting corral.

I grabbed the gate and was using it to push the cows in. All of a sudden I

was on my back as one of the mothering heifers kicked the gate right into my

forehead and sent me flying onto the ground. Let me remind you it

had been raining all week and so, yes, I was covered head (including hair) to

foot in slimy, oozy COW POOP!!!

{image via}

I just laid there stunned; cows running all around me

taking advantage of the open gate. I got slowly up. Waddled over to dad,

holding back my tears asked if I could please go home. "Nope," he said.

" We have to finish the job." So I stayed. Miserable to the bone. Hair

matted to my head with poop. Crusty. Stinky. Wet. And we finished the job.

I told those big college people that I would be that way the rest of my life.

I would stay until the job was done.

And so... in two days I move.

I move to a new town, a new job, and a new life.

I'm starting my student teaching. Starting the beginning of "being cultured."

And you know what I think I'm going to miss the most: home.

I'll be packing now.

Mom doesn't like the word random

~ When I finally have a house of my own to decorate, I am

going to put thousands of glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceilings.

I have them in my bedroom now and I love trying to find constellations

as I am going to sleep. I make up my own with their own stories.

(I did this with a past boyfriend for a date. We went and checked out
children's books at the library, made a fort out of the couch cushions, and

tried to find constellations on the ceilings as we ate smores made from the

stovetop. I don't think he liked it as much as I did. Cued me in that he wasn't

right for me. :) {Image found at weheartit.com}

~ My mom's name is Ann. My grandma's name is Shirley. I've always

wanted to name one of my daughters: Anne Shirley.

"Anne with an e."

It honors three great people.

{Mom cutting Grandma's hair. This is one of my favorite pictures.}

Anne of Green Gables= fantastic book, fantastic movie

Probably going to watch it today and eat my cupcakes.

~ I Love Lucy is the best show in the whole world. I have never laughed so hard.

I own 6 seasons on DVD and I watch them every year. I've dyed my hair
red in honor of her several times.

{image found at weheartit.com}

~I don't really have celebrity crushes. Although for a while I really liked Orlando Bloom. I liked watching him in Lord of the Rings. Running. Hmm. He made a pretty great pirate as well.

~Getting notes is one of my most favorite things. I love making cards to give

to people. I think notes should be as long as the space available.

There is always more to say to a person, fill'er up!

~Summer is coming to an end. Did I get rid of my pasty-white chicken legs? No.

Did I read any of the books I planned to? No.
Did I do some art projects that I could use for my student teaching? No.

My excuse: for the last four years I have done nothing but study my

brains out. Read and read. I use to love reading. It feels now like

something I have to do (a chore) and I don't want to. I'm done studying for a while.

All I want to do is watch T.V. and eat cupcakes. It makes me

feel sluggish and gross, but I deserve it. I have worked hard to finish college

and this my break. Next week I'll be moving into a new apartment, in a

new town, and starting a new "grown-up" job; I'm scared! I'm having all sorts

of doubts. What if I really don't like teaching? What if I'm not a good teacher?

Crap.

Mom says I worry too much. I know I do.

~These chairs are making me so happy. I painted them yesterday.

The frames were plain wood I had sitting around that I sprayed

with a light coat of white and scruffed up a bit with sandpaper.

Watercolor.

~I really want to know how to make a heart on the computer.

Anyone know?

It's a Universal Truth...

that all driver's licenses are terrible.

Today I got my third license in a year (that's a different story that someday I'll tell)

and it is the worst! I tried extremely hard to be cute. I was determined to look

at least normal. I wore my favorite shirt and did my hair as cute as I could.

But the camera again conquered me.

Hair= not bad.

Squinty eyes= ugh!

See the clenched smile= not normal, kind of sinister.

Chin= I look like my brother.

And who sees my driver's license? Police who have the ability to make me

poorer than I am. (Did I tell you all that I have to buy a new car?) I always hope if I

look pleasant they will be nicer. (Not going to work with this lovely card.)

I hate getting pulled over.

I hate the chills down my back seeing those lights. I hate how awkward it is.

I hate the agonizing wait seeing if they are going to punish me; and coupled

with the flashing lights blinding me and everyone whose passing looking

through the window to see if they know me, makes it miserable.

"Hey everyone! Yes, I got in trouble. Move along now."

So, what I really meant to ask:

As anyone ever had a good driver's license?

When I was 18

I always thought that the perfect age was 18. And when we

died we would be 18 in heaven for eternity.

I waited and waited to be 18. It was the age where magical things

happened. All my Barbies were 18 and they got to go to college,

met "real men," drive their own car, and eat sausages and ice cream

for dinner if they wanted to.

First night at college with my first ever roommates. Me= Nerd at the top.

Truth? I didn't know anything when I was 18. I thought it was the

age where you were young enough to still be considered young and fun,

but old enough to be solidly an adult. It was all about freedom and
being carefree.

My roommates and I freshman year "popcorning" someone at 4 in the morning. Me= Right

Drinking too much sparkling cider. Me= far left.

Me at 18 was insecure. I cried a lot and did some crazy things.

And I didn't have money to buy sausage or drive my own car.

But college seemed a lot more exciting when I was 18. I took life by the

horns and tried to shake all the fun out of it.

And yes at 18, I gained the famous "Freshman 15,"
although for me it was 20.

My roomate and I polishing off a 10 lb cake on a very depressing night.
As I got older, I found myself most night with so much homework that "going out" was not an option. I ate too much Ramen and studied too hard. I was a boring college student bent on getting my A's.

But I like myself more now than I did at 18. I know myself a little better.

Maybe I'm a little more mature.

Maybe not.

I do however have more curves to show off and I do eat sausage when I want to. And my car died last week.

I now believe strongly that the perfect age will be 24. I'll have a real job, be a successful, and maybe get rid of my lazy tendencies. And I'll be shaking those horns again, but a little bit more responsible.

Guess I'll tell you how that goes when I get there.

*I lied. That last picture isn't me now. I was 20. It just makes me laugh every time I see it. Enjoy!

Quick and Easy Footstool

I haven't painted for a while and I've been feeling the urge.

This last semester I wasn't able to take an art class because I

was getting done with all my history classes.

And how I have missed it!

It makes me all the more excited for my student teaching

because I'll be doing nothing but ART!

I feel challenged when painting, but also so free. No one can tell

me that my painting is wrong and I didn't learn right, because it is mine.

It is a puzzle that only I can figure out and there is no guide to help.

It is my responsiblity to contribute something that didn't exist before.

I love watching the piece emerge as I use highlights and shade

to create shapes. It is so relaxing and satisfying. I just love it!

This is the watercolor I did yesterday.
--------------------------------------------------------------------

-------------

{In advance: I apologize for the low quality of pictures.

I am still trying to figure out how to take pictures of myself

while doing the actual project.}

Here is a quick little, easy project for ya all!

I painted this cute this stool in elementary school and

lately I've been hiding it in the back of my closet. It isn't something

I'm really liking. It definitely needs a new update.

I first sanded all the old paint off I could and painted it all white.

I then added a coat of black on top. Taking a fine grade sandpaper,

I roughed up the edges to let some of the white come through.

I have these two bottles of medium that work handy.

Pick a brush that you aren't afraid of getting ruined.

I picked some scrapbook paper that I liked and cut it to fit the

top of the stool.

I prepared a thick coat of Matte Medium on the surface of the
stool and let it sit for about five minutes to let it set up a bit.

Starting at one end, set the end of the paper onto the stool

and I used the Varnish Medium to adhere it on the top.

Avoid just setting the whole paper onto the top of the stool.

Doing this will create bubbles that will be difficult to get out.

Roll it down adding more and more medium on top with a brush.

Don't be afraid to add quite a bit of medium, though adding too much

will make the scrapbook paper a bit murky.

Let dry. And enjoy.

I am excited to put this in the new apartment.