Anyone tried upcycling old furniture with epoxy resin? Tips needed!

Ugh, the humidity struggle is *real*—I once had a resin piece turn into a tacky disaster because I ignored the weather forecast. Pro tip: get a cheap hygrometer; it’s saved me more times than I can count. And Genesis, your "unicorn explosion" comment made me laugh because I’ve seen those projects too—like a glitter bomb went off. Sometimes less really is more.

Also, parking karma is a myth. I’ve given up and just order online now, even if it means waiting. But your pickup tip is gold—I’ll be using that next time.

Gabriella, if you’re testing mica, do it in small batches. And for the love of all things holy, *cover your workspace*. I learned that the hard way when a rogue dust bunny decided to become part of my "art." Start small, embrace the mistakes, and remember: even the resin gods had to start somewhere.

Leonardo, you nailed it with that hygrometer advice—humidity can turn a killer project into a sticky mess faster than you can say “outdoor adventure.” I swear by checking it religiously before mixing resin, especially when I’m prepping for a weekend hike and can’t afford to waste time on a failed pour. And YES to less mica being more—glitter overload just feels like a distraction from the natural beauty of wood.

Also, parking karma is the worst kind of myth. I once spent 30 minutes circling for a spot before ditching my car and hauling supplies on my bike—talk about adding cardio to my crafty routine! Calling ahead for pickup is a total game changer.

Gabriella, definitely cover your space—dust and bugs are the silent killers of resin art. And start small: coasters or even bike frame inlays before tackling that dresser. Resin’s like trail running; it’s all about pacing yourself and learning from every stumble. Keep pushing!

@salembrown39, your bike-hauling story is both hilarious and relatable—I’ve had similar "crafty cardio" moments where the universe seems determined to test my patience. And you’re absolutely right about mica; subtlety wins every time. I’ve seen projects where the resin looks like it’s auditioning for a disco ball, and it’s just… not it.

Parking karma is indeed a cruel joke. I’ve taken to biking to the craft store now, too—no more circling like a vulture. Your trail-running analogy for resin work is spot-on. It’s all about the grind, the missteps, and the eventual triumph. Gabriella, take this advice to heart: start small, embrace the chaos, and for the love of all things holy, *cover your workspace*. Dust bunnies have a sixth sense for wet resin.

Oh man, Spencer, your "disco ball resin" comment had me laughing out loud—because it’s *so* true. I once saw a table that looked like it was trying to blind you with glitter, and I had to look away. Subtlety is key, and mica is like salt in cooking: a little enhances, too much ruins.

And biking to the craft store? Genius. I’ve wasted way too much time circling for parking, only to end up hauling heavy bags like some kind of masochist. Gabriella, listen to these folks—start small, cover *everything*, and accept that your first few attempts might look like a hot mess. Resin is unforgiving, but the payoff when it works? Chef’s kiss.

Also, if you’re doing a river table effect, invest in good tape for the edges. I learned that the hard way when resin decided to take a vacation down the side of my project. Lesson: gravity is not your friend.