I’m working on a personal project. I’ve had it in my mind for some time now to paint a mural on my house. A few years ago my dear friend, Diane showed me a beautiful house with giant flowers painted on it. I was inspired and excited to try this myself. But like many great ideas, they linger for a while and then time goes on, I get busy, I drop it. But here I am embarking on a community art journey and the idea is back. It never really went anywhere. So, in part I am telling the world my idea so I can hold myself accountable to completing it.
Stage one of any mural project – find a locale and determine the need. My house is a small ranch- it’s brown and simple and its mine. I can paint whatever I want on it. And I would love to get my feet wet and my hands dirty and invite my neighbors and friends to join in on this project. I moved into my house in 2015 and was shy and unsure about meeting my neighbors. Today I have some close friends in the neighborhood and some friendly folks I say hi to and talk to once in a while. I like my neighborhood. It feels neighborly, but I wouldn’t say I know my direct neighbors as more than acquaintances. I do think there is a lot of potential here and an opportunity to build stronger connections, so maybe one day I will feel like I know that my neighbors as more than acquaintances, that I belong here, and that I have a network of resources that support me in ways a neighborhood can.
Next stage – design. I fell in love with those flowers on that house and decided I would do the same – giant poppies. Poppies are so lovely and bright and gorgeous. Then I thought about this idea – What makes a house a home? I brainstormed ideas – love, warmth, food, laughter, ease, childhood, pajamas, friends, art, softness, joy, family, friends, music, pillows, heirlooms, photographs, furniture, sunshine, parties, holidays, plants, memories. I found the sweetest picture of me and my sister. I might be 4 years old and she might be three. My childhood. I always want my home to feel like children would love to live here, that as a child, I would love to live here. I would feel safe here. Then there’s the muse, an amazing artist named Jetsonorama, a physician and photographer living in Navajo country. He photographs his patients and with permission makes large scale wall paper prints of them and pastes them on buildings and structures in the countryside. They are beautiful and impactful. I will take this photo and try to blow it up to at least double full size and paste it on to my house. What if I could take photos of the children in the neighborhood and place their images on the house? What if I could get photographs of my adult neighbors and place them on the house? Then we would all exist as a testament to home and community beneath the soft cover of the giant poppies.
Beginning stages complete – next I experiment with this new photographic medium.
