Canvas #1 Completed!

Here it is!  Thank you to all the wonderful strangers who stopped and painted with me at the park.  Not only have you helped me create this happy work of art, you have given me reason to believe people are wonderful.  Here are the joyful, whimsical shapes and colors we didn't know we were going to create until it was happening!  Thank you for your ideas and for your friendly willingness to join in my experiment.

And now we need a title!  E-mail me at lisahuffaker@yahoo.com with suggestions.

By the way, I've already bought a second canvas, and can't wait to begin!

Painting #1 Nearly Done

By now the canvas was so full it reminded me of Newspaper Rock, the famous petroglyph panel near Canyonlands National Park.  Now there's an incredible piece of collaborative art -- created over the past 1,500 to 2,000 years!

I worked to intensify some of the fainter figures, and to surround the images with color, in order to bring all this diversity into a context.  Forty people between the ages of 2 and 55 had contributed to the painting during six visits to the lake, and it was nearly done!

Some interesting things that happened

• A graceful young Chinese woman added the Chinese characters for "spring", "summer", "autumn", and "winter", placing them carefully in just the right sections of the picture. 
• Three little boys in matching orange soccer uniforms tried to copy her beautiful calligraphy, and she declared their efforts a success.
• A runner training for his first marathon stopped just long enough to add a blue Nike "swoosh".
• An eighteen-year-old girl insisted her entire family pull over and get out of the car.  Swirling spirals, a flaming tulip, and a blue chessboard appeared on the canvas, thanks to them.
• A mysterious stranger contemplated the painting for a long time, but opted not to paint because, as he enigmatically put it, he chose to "save all his creative energy for music."
• A two-year-old girl painted with great enthusiasm while simultaneously eating pizza.
• A charming runner painted a pterodactyl and a tyrranosaurus rex.
• A little boy painted a blob in front of the t-rex, excitedly narrating a story about how the giant rock was rolling down the hill, but the dinosaur would jump over it just in time.
• The ice cream truck drove by, and a little girl stopped painting and shouted, "Listen!  It's the Song Truck!"  Strangers shared stories about childhood.
• A ten-year-old boy painted a group of concentric circles with dots that reminded me of flowers by Gustav Klimt.

People came to paint.



Painting at White Rock Lake

I thought:  why doesn't someone set up a huge canvas at White Rock Lake, and invite everyone to paint?  I thought it would be a friendly sight:  bright colors evolving in a beautiful park, people creating something together.  I am fascinated by the creativity and uniqueness I'm convinced is lurking behind the faces of strangers.  I thought:  why not cast a net and see what a random sample brings? 

So I went to the art store and bought a 36" by 60"canvas -- the biggest I could fit in my Volkswagen.  I found a shady spot under a huge cottonwood tree, right next to the trail.  I set up an easel and tied down the canvas with stakes, so my giant kite wouldn't sail away in the breeze (no wonder sailboats are such a common sight at White Rock!)  I set out my water, brushes, and tubes of acrylic paint.  Then I took a deep breath, swallowed my shyness, and set up my sign.  It read:

"PLEASE HELP CREATE THIS PAINTING -- EVERYONE IS WELCOME"

What if all the rollerbladers, runners, picnickers, bicyclists, and birdwatchers thought I was crazy?  I forced myself to dive in.  I started with big, arching lines in cobalt blue.  I created "zones" on the canvas, shapes I hoped people might want to fill with their own ideas.  I heard redwing blackbirds.  I smelled barbecue.  People passed by and made friendly comments.  A few stopped to watch, but no one volunteered to paint.

Then a father approached me and asked if his 9-year-old daughter could paint.  Delighted, I soon had both of them dabbling away.  Strange flowers began to appear on the white expanse of the canvas.  Thanks to the first two, others began to join in.  A big yellow sun rose in the picture.  Two ladies strolled by and gave it a face.  Bicycles rested in the grass while their owners painted whirling pink spirals, leafy vines, and mysterious heiroglyphs.  A set of siblings, ages 2, 4, and 5, came along and added dozens of green vertical marks, which other people began interpreting as grass.

Best of all, everyone seemed delighted to be there.  An older couple, who never did paint, nonetheless set up their lawn chairs on a hill where they had a good view of the canvas.  They watched for over an hour.  It was a friendly afternoon.  Sometimes people talked;  sometimes people painted in silence.  When I finally packed everything up, I couldn't wait to come back.  The painting had a long way to go, and I was smiling from the inside out.