A new and old project...

I wish I had a "before" picture to show you.

It started as an old window from a dilapidated barn.

(I thought it looked really cool the way it was, but it probably was not going to be allowed hanging on our walls. So I tweaked it a lot little. :)

 I painted over the old white paint that was chipping and painted into the pane a little bit to give it an antiqueish look.

The markers I used on the window panes are some sort of Sharpie brand. I was very impressed with their quality. 

(I don't know if you're able to see it in these pictures or not, but there is a magnetic strip at the bottom of the window that mom thought would be really cool to hang something on.)

I didn't get a picture of it hanging in our music room, so you get to imagine it. :)

'Twas battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.
"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.
Myra Brooks Welch

So what are some projects you've been working on as of late?