A long while back, I posted about a project where I decoupaged some birds onto an old stool. Here's a photo to refresh your memory.

I was never perfectly happy with how this project turned out. I felt it needed more birds. Or that the birds weren't well laid out.

But it was good enough, and for a long time, I lived with it.

Then, thanks to a hot cup and a low attention span, I ruined it. I scalded the top of the stool and a big fat chunk of varnish, bird and paint tore away.

This gave me an opportunity to start again.

Using my handy-dandy oscillating sander, I stripped away the old decoupage. (I should have used paint stripper for this. I'm so lazy. Don't be lazy like me. Do things right and you'll save yourself heartache.)

I brushed on a new under-coat of black paint, then found, printed and carefully cut out a picture of a water lily to take the place of the lost birds.

Here's how it turned out:

I used regular paper and my home printer for the water lily. Again, not wise. Decoupage works a lot better with thick paper and inks that won't bleed.

I re-decoupaged the top of the stool with the flower. The thin paper wrinkled and I had major bubble problems along the way. I tried to solve these with a needle and patience.

The result is imperfect. If you look at the stool up close, you can see that the varnish isn't smooth and the flower itself is a bit blurred, but nonetheless, I am very happy with it. It's better than the birds, I think. The water lily has more impact.

I did the whole thing while watching a movie on a Saturday afternoon, so it wasn't exactly hard labour.

Have you decoupaged anything recently?

So remember when I posted about my super-awesome idea to make faux Billy Button flowers out of wire and craft balls?

Yeah. It seemed like a great idea. But along the way, things went a little sideways.

The beginning of the project was easy-peasy. I affixed my foam balls to some stalks of heavy-duty wire and snapped a quick photo (shown).

Cute, right? Round. Ready. Brilliant, really. All that was left to do was to paint. And that (I assured myself) was a five-minute job. Tops.

I promptly went on holiday and forgot about it.

And then, just a few nights ago, go-getter that I am, I decided it was time to spare those five precious minutes. I had a can of yellow spray paint at the ready. Purchased two+ years ago at a Canadian Tire sale, I'd been itching to use it for ages.

Finally! The time for yellow had come.

I suppose that what happened next was entirely my own fault. I'm a DIYer from way back, but a fairly new inductee into the world of spray paint. And spray paint can get addictive. If you've ever refurbished something with a few simple sprays , you know what I mean. Spray paint had taken on mystical qualities in my mind. It was the answer to all my problems, all my prayers. There was nothing, I felt, spray paint couldn't do, couldn't fix. Nothing! I was a spray paint convert and I felt my conversion with the fervor of a born-again bible bunny.

Sigh.

Here's the thing: I paid no attention to the can. I didn't read the name, let alone the instructions. I flew by the seat of my pants, caring only about the colour and nothing else. I was a prideful spray-painter. And I paid the price.

I grabbed my nearly-finished faux billy balls, and headed down to the basement where I proceeded to hit them with a yellow spray. And in turn, they proceeded to... melt.

That's right, melt. At the first hint of paint, the foam...well, foamed. And hissed. And disintegrated like the Wicked Witch of the West. Oh, what a world, what a world!

And the smell. Oh lord, the smell. I was in a well-ventilated area, but nonetheless, I immediately developed a headache that lasted several hours. Not to mention a suspicious and concerning burning in my lungs.

Sigh. As previously demonstrated during the whole "I'm gonna make a down pillow!" debacle, I've got problems.

It's not the paint's fault. I used HomeStyles brand high-gloss enamel spray, by the way, which clearly states that it's for "use on wood, metal, fiberglass and plastics." NOT on little foam balls.

But you know what? The end results really weren't that bad. After the initial hissing subsided and the chemical melt slowed down a little, the balls began to dry. And while shrivelled (and still rather pungent), they don't look so bad.

That said, next time, I'll read the label. I promise.

Oh, and FYI, this post has inspired me to add a whole new "tag" category to the Chic blog. It's called "Oops!" And I hope (or rather, fear) it will be filled with posts in no time.