A couple of weeks ago, I told you about my love of chippy paint on furniture. Ohh how I love chippy paint! It was a love that stared with a single primitive chair that I found at a yard sale and the love has grown from there. (read that post)
My love of chippy paint doesn’t just end at the paint on furniture though. I am totally and completely in love with all chippy paint. No matter what the paint is on, it whispers to me of the passing of time the story it longs to share. 
I have been in chippy paint love with these two building for quite some time. I first found them over a year ago and have been back to see them several times. 
From a distance, they don’t seem to be anything spectacular. In fact, most people probably think they are a bit of an eye sore.
I was drawn to their beauty though from the moment I saw them. They are little boat houses, that were built quite a long time ago, in a town not far from where I live. 
Their doors are no longer square. Their walkways are weathered wood that is falling apart. Their paint has been chipped through storms and snow and wind. They are absolutely beautiful to me. 
I see them and think of all of the little boats that must have pulled up there when the town was a bustling centre of commerce. I think of the people who got together and built them by hand. I am amazed that scraps of wood and metal were salvaged to make something useful. 
And for every chip and flake of paint that is missing, I think of the years that have passed and what might have caused it to loosen and blow away in the wind. 
No matter what they look like, with their chippy coats of paint, I will always choose to see their beauty and not their scars. And if I am quiet enough, I can almost hear them speaking of the wonderful story they have to tell.
