Slow & Wobbly

I completed the biggest wall in my portfolio to date in the beginning of November, with so! much! difficulty! I’ve always been a frustratingly slooooooow painter. I have yet to find a foolproof way to work smarter instead of kicking myself for not working harder. Stephen took a video of me working and you could practically SEE the hesitation and doubt oooooooozing out of my movements and extensive pauses, repetitive motions over the same area for the tenth time just in case I missed a millimeter of stucco surface.

A friend encouraged: “overtime, you’d be able to find a rhythm and pace that works for you, maybe next time you’d have less radishes? or you’d have less details in some areas!” it feels like a right thing to believe in, to have faith in my ability to improve based on past learnings and course-correct; to have faith that eventually things will turn out great, or at the very least, alright. I can’t shake the exhaustion over allllllll the time & effort I’ve put in a project and still feeling like I haven’t done the wall justice.

If I had simplified my design in the beginning during the revision process;

if I had assessed the site thoroughly to rent a more suitable equipment;

If I was more confident with the scissor lift during my rental week;

if I had asked for help earlier without carrying the burden of inconveniencing others without an equitable tradeoff…

It’s been nearly a month since I wrote this on my commute and with some distance I’ve loosened my grip on the expectations of my process and the outcome of the mural. With some distance I’ve come to accept the piece as it is with a life far beyond my projected ideals. 

A family in the neighborhood was very excited seeing the mural come to life. On a particularly rough day when I had serious doubts about my career, she walked by and said: “you’re really good at this” enthusiastically. She wouldn’t have known how much I repeated the opposite & how quickly her words pulled me out of my spirals. Even when there’s only 5% painted, especially when there’s only 5% painted, her words reminded me of the bigger goal I was hired to accomplish. Throughout the 18(!) days of painting I was consistently shown kindness from strangers displayed through warm conversations and words of encouragement. Chris walked his dog Layla through the laneway everyday so I could share 5 minutes of zoomies with her. Mary, Janice and Kevin checked in with me daily during their brief breaks from a nearby school. Taylor’s mom mimicked all the sounds of the animals from the mural so Taylor could grow up next to familiar friends he could name. 

I’ve been  trying to taking the uncertainties out of my sentences for the past year. “I don’t know”, “I guess”, “maybe” “I’m not sure”. Of course they fit when used in an appropriate context, less so when I use them solely to soften the edges of my tone in order to people-please. As the days get colder and darkness lingers, I hope a stranger shows you abundant kindness in unexpected ways. When in doubt, you can always remind yourself that you’re really, really good at this. 💛