*The following blog post is a recollection of late September, October, and the beginning of November (Despite the title.)
T̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶y̶e̶a̶r̶ This past October was quite the journey. From having artwork featured in SAACAS "Inside out, Outside in” show to completing the largest mural/painting I've worked on as of 2024. What began as a fun project turned into a serious test of time management, a challenge entirely self-imposed.
Late August and early September, the back and forth began to figure out what kind of project would be provided for the Dusk Music Festival here in Tucson, Arizona.
which brings us to
🔔ding ding ding 🔔
🔔 ROUND 1:
In the original plan, this was a live painting gig. Picture it: sitting downtown by the library or by Pennington Street, casually bringing iPad sketches to life while looking effortlessly artsy like one of those French guy's painting on the street. But then came the email: live painting was out, and art installation was in.
Receiving the first of many emails, a live painting suddenly turned into an art installation piece. (Fantasy of French guy level of painting on the street = destroyed.)
Which brings us to
🔔 ROUND 2:
Ahhh- Art installation ... the thing .. i'm .. very, so experienced in..that THING that requires spatial planning, maybe some power tools.. sure, no problem. no problem, not a single one.
If you can't tell by the 14-8 font sizes, art installation is something that’s outside of the usual creative comfort zone. With a Graphic Design degree, I can sure give you a three-page paper about a Wassily chair, but having to practice spatial planning and prepare for possible weather conditions? Count me out.
With all of that in mind, how much space would be available? What was the budget? What could be accomplished in a month with consideration of having to order supplies, make store runs, etc.? I started mocking up projects where people could ideally walk through, take pictures, laugh under, eat their food around, use as a backdrop, make out under, deface, or do whatever it is people do at music festivals.
The standout project was putting together a giant arch greenhouse “tunnel” where there would be art on the outside and inside to give people shade / a place to sit down at the festival, including some cool lights. Below are also some of the project mockups (All of the projects centered around the idea of “sun worship.”)
quick screenshots of a couple of the ideas I considered.
Meanwhile … (yes, meanwhile-)
The deadline for SAACAS “Inside out, Outside in” show is coming up. The show is anatomical themed. Convientely, two out of four of the “pieces that took over a year” are also anatomical themed. Armed with Prismacolor pencils, Posca markers, and watercolors I'm quick enough to put two and two together to paint and draw faster than one of those old spaghetti western cowboy showdowns. ( Do you think I can add the title “Color Pencil-Slinger” to my CV? )
Lined up on the wall are the following:
"P.D.M." (2020), A piece inspired by the infamous Piltdown Man incident.
" The second piece was "S.O.B." 2022. The piece was created in 2022 for my first solo show QUALIA.
The third piece "EVERGREEN" 2024 was one of the pieces that was incomplete. The piece wasn't finished until the day before I had to scan these pieces and send them an hour off before deadline. The piece wasn't created intentionally for a show, or project but ended up just being an indulgent piece started at the beginning of 2024.
"R.A.T.W." 2024 (lovingly nicknamed "the big olive") finished two weeks before drop-off (or, you know, the night before). What you see in the image is what was on that wooden piece for about the entirety of 2024.
Between both deadlines, email checks became a sport checking my email about every 30 minutes for the next two weeks. That period gave me enough time to ruminate on the big and important 20-something-year-old soul-searching questions like; What pieces would be accepted? What did I need to get framed? Was I about to have to buy power tools? After about a week of sending mockups, I checked my email and read;
🔔 ROUND 3:
“Thank you so much for sharing your ideas with me..”
Oh no- (defeat = accepted)
“Unfortunately, it won't work out for this year after all.”
Oh well, back to live painting! (Acceptance-)
“I apologize the space at the Dusk site is all taken up, but we still have room for murals..”
“Oh?” (inquisitive, even nosey perhaps-)
Three rounds over and the clock hasn’t stopped ticking. Groundworks graciously became a makeshift studio for October, because, well, these giant panels weren’t fitting anywhere else.
September 24th rolls around and it’s time for pickup.
“Am I in the Right place?”
“Yeah! Just go find ____”
Stepping out of the truck and suddenly onto a construction site in true Tucson fashion I was a stranger in a hat and glasses wandering around. After wandering around in places I’m not supposed to be (in true Tucson fashion.) I’m eventually brought to the skeleton of this structure.
Stepping out of the truck onto a construction site to wander around like a weird stranger in my hat and glasses felt quintessentially Tucson. After some aimless wandering through off-limits areas (classic Tucson), someone finally guided the way to the skeleton of the structure.
A quick rundown covered the project details, "Any questions?" only invited one pressing thought: What on earth just happened? What happened, as it turned out, was inheriting two giant boards—unwieldy enough to sometimes require a team for even basic maneuvering—for the next month and of course“cOnCePts oF a pLaN,” for the mural.
The giant panels are now secured in the back of the truck and I ride off into the sunset ( sort of.) I drive them back to Groundworks and one at a time, slowly and surely grab them from the truck, flop them on the parking lot floor, and drag them inside.
The massive panels were carefully loaded into the truck and hauled off into the sunset (sort of- back to Groundworks.) One by one, they were eased out of the truck, flopped onto the parking lot floor and dragged inside.
One of the few times im able to stand the panels up is to hide the 8-foot panels in the space that almost keeps taking my 5-foot something down with it. Seeing them in person and crammed into a corner made me realize I had no idea what I was going to create.
Luckily, by the time I realized I had no idea what I was officially doing, it coincided with going up to Flagstaff.
I won’t say much to save room for the rest of this blog post, but after some research I finally had my official mural design sketched into my sketchbook. ( Peep the VERY GOOD stick figures below.)
The idea was to create a Trompe-L'oeil (a fancy art term to say "badass three-dimensional art.") The image would be a modge podge fantasy piece incorporating the wave , the very convincing stick figures taking the role of "the people," and the people "taking control of the day" represented by the giant head containing three suns, all of it jampacked within ionic columns containing other quotes + symbolism.
After the brief Flagstaff intermission, no time was wasted to start sketching out the arch on the panels and getting paint. (Spoiler: If you've seen the final piece, you know why this is a bad idea-)
The color palette above was inspired by the 70's Arizona Highway magazines.
After getting samples, it was all just a paint-by-numbers game. Sketch the very essential, paint, move on, and save time for detail on the scene and the columns around.
October 1st:
*My thought process: "It's BASICALLY already done. E A S Y. Already in the bag. I have sooo much time for detail"
Daytime is for working on the panels, Nighttime becomes the time to finish The Big Olive before the October 16th SAACA drop-off deadline.
The idea is to finish the piece as a multilayer zoetrope. It doesn't have to make sense as an actual zoetrope, but it's just the idea that if the piece were to spin, the skeleton in the middle would be running through all these different "worlds."
October 5th:
Oh no-
Staring at the panels, it finally dawns that I'm not interested in getting very "detailed" or "painterly" with these panels. Panic sets in on having to create a new concept and the possibility of having to go back to the store and get more paint. The only thing I can think of is to just go home and rest and return at the start of the week to try and not force any other ideas.
October 6th:
The morning is spent wondering if I should try to go in and work something out. By the afternoon im at the UofA's Insect Festival due to good friends who knew I just needed a break (and to look at some cool critters.)
October 7th:
With some quick research, I'm able to gather what's officially going on the panels. I put on my painting clothes, buy paint and I'm back.
October 9th:
For the panels, there's a body outline sketched out and because I don't want to waste any more time, I start painting the head and arms on the figure with no sketch underneath.
October 14th-15th:
Two days are dedicated to finding and buying perfect frames, sanding down the frames, buying picture wire, wiring the pieces, labeling, and finally finishing the Olive piece.
October 16th:
Turns out one forty-minute drive to the Roche Campus isn't enough time to dry an oil painting. ̶w̶h̶o̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶n̶-̶
October 18th:
The body is almost complete. My mind is reeling with the same question over and over, "does it even look like a body?" I ask people coming in and out of the Groundworks space and even go as far as sending pictures to multiple people just to make sure.
October 19th:
Welcome to the brief intermission of this blog post, where I talk about Zella Day.
"AGHHH I DON'T EVEN WANNA GO DUDE-"
I'm having an anxiety-induced meltdown to my sister (bless her for letting me just have a moment to be anxiety-rage filled.) The truth is I very much want to go to the Viva Phoenix festival to see some friends and Zella Day perform. In fact, I wanted to go so bad that I was able to win the tickets in the Groundworks action against somebody who tried bidding for them about four different times. I get in the car with my makeup and we head up to Phoenix for a THREE HOUR drive (*note: Saturday traffic) for the Viva Phoenix festival.
On the three-hour drive, I tell Sabina about the single time I had been able to see Zella Day over the course of 8 years. Any time there was a possibility, somehow Sabina and I were always out of town. We finally got to the stage and the three-hour drive and anxiety attack were now of course"worth it" in my brain. As she was doing soundcheck, I couldn't help but turn to Sabina and widen my eyes to reemphasize that I couldn't believe I had waited eight years for this.
I could geek out about this performance for a long time, but at the end of the day, it had me buzzing and filled with enough energy to go back to Tucson and face the rest of the month.
October 22:
I dedicate a couple of hours to creating gaudy anatomical-themed nails for the "Inside Out, Outside In" show happening in less than 24 hours. I also receive the last-minute business cards last minute shipped on the previous Friday.
October 23:
I finish gluing my nails, I get ready, and im out the door by 4:18 PM due to the hour drive to the show.
I pick up my "artist badge" along with the respectable classic art show wine plastic cup to head into the first building. A visitor ("visitor", for privacy) stops me in my tracks to tell me how much they enjoyed my pieces. In that moment i'm reminded that compared to art market-vendor shows people actually like artists.
If I had to make a comparison, vendor shows feel like working minimum wage jobs where you have to convince people why your original art merchandise might be worth their 20 seconds of attention and purchasing, along with 20+ other eager vendors. (Some) Art shows are the comfy job you find where your work ethic might get praise or will even get you a raise (patrons, commission work, etc.)
The show is no short of amazing talent, with each part organized and sectioned off by what the pieces reference anatomically.
In the second building, I find my artwork and my little art-wine-cup gives me and my social anxiety the courage to hand out business cards, answer people's questions and even get a picture with a very kind person!
By the end of the night, and after a long conversation with a New Yorker im told to open my palm. Im rewarded with this piece of blue sparkly goldstone
"Congrats, you just got stoned."
October 24th:
October 25th:
Progress.. slowly but surely..
October 26th:
Ah yes- a Halloween art vendor show to humble me after an incredible week (but of course, I'm still lucky to see good friends.)
October 27th:
The weird triangle that goes on top of the mural is calling for me, no longer can I keep sending it to voicemail.
October 28th:
The drive to Groundworks gave me enough time to consider if these pieces would actually match each other. (They don't, but I loved them together anyway.)
November 6th:
It was bleak speaking with friends and understanding the level of fear that finally broke to the surface for a lot of people. With that, I decided if my artwork was going to be in front of the whole Dusk Music Festival, I was going to use this quote from Marianne Willliamson to bring the important message to festival goers of helping to love and empower the people in their lives and community.
On Friday, November 8th, 2024 the clock stops. It's time to drop off the piece. The combination of anxiety and not eating that morning had me buzzing and ready.
All three pieces are officially brought together. The Three Suns is finally complete.
After loading the pieces into the truck, the pieces finally arrived to the Jacome Plaza. For the first time carrying the pieces across the Plaza, I felt like I could take my first deep breath of the day. Being informed that the pieces would be put up almost immediately, I of course, went and got a tamale at Bombolé around the corner. Arriving back at the site, the panels were put up, and I got a couple of pictures looking like those Serge Gainsbourg French Choir Kids with my lemonade.
< Celebration mint lemonade to celebrate f̶i̶n̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶l̶e̶e̶p̶ ̶
The Day of Dusk:
As I got to the festival, I walked about halfway around the festival gates themselves and observed festival goers and folks going out on a Saturday alike. I walked in and met up with my dear friend Katrina (@eyelie.mxf) who helped me take these wonderful photos:
(Katrina, you're a badass, thank you !!))
And so dear friends, we arrive at the end—a story of paint-stained hands, last-minute miracles, and enough time management chaos to fuel a lifetime of blog posts. From the panic of deadlines to the triumph of seeing my work stand tall at the Dusk Music Festival, this journey was a test of creativity, stamina, and how many times a person can say “It’s fine, everything’s fine.” But, we made it. The art was delivered, the nails were glued, and I even "got stoned" (courtesy of a friendly New Yorker).
If there’s one takeaway from these whirlwind months, it’s this: whether you’re wielding a paintbrush, adrenaline, or just sheer determination, you’re capable of more than you think—even if it involves dragging eight-foot panels through a parking lot. Cheers to lemonade, late nights, and living through another "month."
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