Oak Tree Mural at St. Anthony’s Retreat in Three Rivers, Day Two.
After studying my photos on the laptop, I saw things to correct from Day One. Why didn’t they show up in person??
Most of Day Two was spent on bulking up Day One’s branches and adding twigs. I also put in some trial leaves at the bottom and learned they should be larger, which I fixed and liked. And, I turned the corner.
Day Three was a little bit cold in the shade, but cold is better than hot, especially when it comes to painting a mural. Direct sun dries out the palette and the brush, even while it is trying to do its job on a wall.
I had a mental list of what the mural needed. The lower half wasn’t detailed.
Finally, I began working on my day’s assignment of detailing the lower 1/3. Then, I rediscovered that the oak tree was too high to reach. Fortunately, Trail Guy stopped by to see if I needed anything, so I requested the stepping stool from my studio.
It got colder in the shade, and suddenly I felt ready to go home. Because there is no deadline, no commute, and no check waiting at the end, I can return to this mural any time I have a better idea.
Mural completed, building dressed up, Three Rivers neighborhood beautification project finished.
Merry Christmas, Alta Acres!
This is my final post of 2019. I’ll be back on January 6, 2020. Happy New Year, Blog Readers!
Because Day 1 of the neighborhood beautification project was packed so full of mural goodness, I split it into 2 posts. So Part 3 is actually only Day 2.
Here is a list of thoughts about painting this mural:
I am quite happy about this mural. It’s been on my list to do for several years while I waited for an idea, an opportunity, and the right attitude.
One more day ought to do the trick.
I hid something in this mural.
Two voices were warring in my head over all the other noises: one said, “What do you think you are doing, you faker?” and the other said, “Keep painting, chickie-babe, you’ll figure it out”.
Why are kids so noisy? They are continually crying and yelling. (There is a day care nearby.)
The equipment inside this building runs all day long, sounding like a dishwasher or washing machine.
The noisiest vehicles in the neighborhood are the ones that drive back and forth, all day.
Whole lotta barking dogs around here.
People are very encouraging and complimentary.
I didn’t post on Instagram or put the mural on the blog while I was working on it, because it is a gift for my neighborhood, not a publicity feat. (I don’t ever do the Facebook*.) It has been fun to just quietly do the thing and let people discover it on their own.
*”The Facebook” is said the same way I say “liberry”, “prolly”, “Mr. Google”, and “Remorial Building”. I’m not as dumb as I sound, in case you were worried. Thank you for your concern.
The last post of this blog showed the beginnings of a mural on the neighborhood water treatment plant doors. I put some blue in the sky and knew there was only one direction – forward.
It is time to figure out where all the other pieces and parts belong.
This is the mural at the end of Day One. On Tuesday, I’ll show you the next steps of the process to create a Christmas present for my neighborhood.
For about 12 years, I was on our neighborhood water board. Volunteers are how things work when you live in a rural unincorporated town. I got on the board as the recording secretary because I can type fast and spell, but ended up helping to make decisions about things that I knew almost nothing about, standing in the middle of the street watching water leak away and having no idea what to do about it, taking phone calls from people who were mad about their water bills or wondered why there was no water AGAIN, reading water meters, attending way too many meetings, driving around the neighborhood knocking on doors to hand out Boil Water Notices, calculating distances between wells and the road, measuring tanks and figuring out the volume of water, helping to tear down the old treatment plant, writing articles for the newsletter that no one read, putting locks on the meters of people who wouldn’t pay their water bill, removing the locks when they decided to pay.
It was hard. I learned a lot and made friends with the other board members, 2 benefits from the experience.
Two years ago I resigned. Meanwhile, I would walk past the treatment plant and think about how nice it would be to have a mural on the doors.
Now that I have recovered from being water boarded, I want to give the gift of a mural to the current water board members and the entire neighborhood.
It took two years to decide what to paint. I used a card I drew back in 2001 of a made-up river scene, complete with Alta Peak and Moro Rock. This meant guessing the colors, and stretching things a bit.
Put down your brushes and walk away from the mural! That’s what I had to tell myself at the end of Day Three on the mural at St. Anthony’s Retreat in Three Rivers.
At the end of Day Two, I took a photo of the mural, studied it, and made a list of things that were not quite right. When I arrived on Day Three, I didn’t even read the list but just started working. The oak tree, the sycamores, the river’s edge. . . fixey, fixey, fixey.
Next, I peeled the masking tape from the top 2 sections to see how effectively it masked the edges. Then it was time for lunch. (I love working at St. Anthony’s!)
The tape had a few malfunctions. The pencil we used to swing the arc and the blue chalk line all had to be painted out, so I used the wall paint to cover the now extraneous guidelines.
I started Day Two on the mural at St. Anthony’s Retreat in Three Rivers with the idea that I could finish it, maybe even in the morning.
Fall down laughing.
First, I needed to fix the slopes below Comb Rocks. It was mushy in the mural, undefined, hard to read. See?
I looked out the window to see how the hills actually look. Of course, it is the wrong time of year, the wrong lighting, and the wrong angle; that’s where I try to blend artistic license with believability.
Artistic license is also why I have made Comb Rocks more prominent in the mural than they are out the window.
That took longer than I expected, so I took a break. First, I photographed the live oak out the nearest window, thinking it might be helpful.
Go back to work, Central California artist, because you are procrastinating and it isn’t advancing the mural.
Time for lunch! I love working here. 😎
The oak tree on the left, the bank along the river, the sycamores, and the river itself don’t seem quite right to me. So, tomorrow I will see how to make these things look more believable.
It is possible that painting inside a little chapel at St. Anthony’s Retreat is the most pleasant mural painting experience I’ve ever had.
It is 1.3 miles from home.
The room where I paint is quiet.
The lighting and the temperature are steady (it is indoors!)
Occasionally someone stops by to see how it is going and to offer a helpful suggestion or compliment.
THEY PROVIDE LUNCH!! (always very good food).
The quiet makes it possible to listen to a wonderful 3-book series on Audible by my good friend Shannon VanBergen, called the “Glock Grannies“. I read the books, but it is so much fun to hear them read to me by a professional.
This is a scene cobbled together from several photos of Three Rivers as it shines in the spring. Look at how much I got done in one focused day of painting!
When I paint murals, there is a lot of noise in my head. Listening to Shannon’s books occupied the part of my brain that keeps yammering at me that I have no idea what I am doing, and that this is too hard for me. So, on this day of painting, the noisy and negative part of my inner dialogue didn’t have a chance. I just listened and painted, and it was lovely.
St. Anthony’s Retreat is a conference grounds here in Three Rivers, a gathering place by many people for many reasons, not just a place for Catholic retreats. I like to go there; it’s close to home, has happy memories, and most of the people who work there are my friends (I don’t know all of them. Yet.) Plus, if I am there around lunchtime, they feed me really good food.
They want to convert a small windowless room to a prayer chapel, and got the idea to have me paint a mural on one of the walls so that it doesn’t feel claustrophobic in that space.
The wall is about 14 feet long and 10-1/2 feet high.