It took me over a month, painting off and on, to complete the three small boxes I was assigned to paint. What fun! I am happy with the results.
Click the pic below and it will take you to a Picasa Web Album. Click on Slideshow.
Painting Art On a Transformer Box
At first I had to get oriented. Where to park since the box I'm starting with has no parking next to it. Hauling all of my paraphernalia in my daughter's old Radio Flyer red wagon. Setting up my umbrella so I don't scorch in the summer sun, pouring water, getting my rolling stool setup, squeezing and mixing paint on the pallet (paper plates) and getting used to the traffic noise. Learning how not to be self conscious knowing you are being viewed frequently by passersby.
I have my earphones on and I'm listening to my Mp3 player. This is very important. Music not only helps cover the traffic noise, but inspires me and lifts my spirits. I've downloaded my most favorite tunes that range from Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony" to "The Old Rugged Cross" by Chris Rice and Edith Piaf's "La Vie En Rose" to The Seeker's "Georgy Girl" with some classical, a little county and jazz thrown in for good measure. It was hard not to get up and boogie to Robert Plant's "Addicted to Love". That would have gotten some looks.
After the first day, I found that I would have to purchase some foam rubber padding for the stool and for when I am sitting on the sidewalk or rocks or other hard things for my tender fanny.
The neighbors next to Box 1 came to meet me. So did their cat, who sprawled across the top of the box with head hanging down watching me paint on the front. A small ditch ran along the back about 10 feet away with some large rocks that I was pretty sure could house some hungry river rats. I brought a large plastic tarp to spread over the area when I worked back there and I have to say that during the entire time, I never encountered anything large than a fussy bee (excepting the cat, of course). The fussy bee never tried to harm me, but got in the way a few times. I think the bright colors I was painting on the box confused some of the insects who thought they had found the mother lode of flower nectar.
A couple of less fortunate individuals panhandled, but left me alone after a firm, but kindly "no". One first asked me if I was getting paid. I proudly said yes. He scornfully said "you're kidding." Two minutes later, apparently thinking I must be rolling in the green stuff, he asked if he could "borrow" 5 dollars and would pay me back. Well, I didn't have five dollars and even if I did I would not give it to him. I had to decline and he just walked away. I noticed that he hit on another artist down the street who, I found out later, gave him some money. This, of course, encouraged him to ask again and again - the other artist, not me of the "don't mess with me" look in my eyes.
Weather was a factor during the first couple of weeks. The rain clouds would start to build and I'd watch carefully. The first couple of times it started to sprinkle, I packed up everything and left. However, the showers proved over time to be brief and so I just put a piece of plastic over the box and stood under my sun umbrella until it was over. Then back to work. One of the other artists in the vicinity would call me and tell me if it looked like the storm was heading our way. He had a better view then I. He also had a very, very nice place to work. A park area with green well kept grass all around his box. I guess I was a little envious, just a little though.
Some folks would stop by and have a word, but not very often as I wasn't on a street where you could pull over safely to park and it wasn't a popular walking spot either. So, I was pretty much left to my creative task without interruption. Completion of Box 1 was a small celebration.
Box 2 was across the street from the first in the shade of two large buildings for almost all day except for about an hour around noon. This was pleasant. I didn't have to use the umbrella much there.
I was painting away, when suddenly something landed on my chest. Glancing quickly down, I was eye to eye with a large unattractive grasshopper. I imagine he was as startled as I. I happened to be sitting on the ground in front of the box and at this point I yelped loudly and although I fell ungracefully backwards, I still managed to sit my pot of black paint down in front of me with my brush still in hand. I backhanded the little guy and sat up. I wish I could say I sat up quick as a wink, but I sort of wallowed around a little bit on the sidewalk before I managed to get myself in the upright position. I looked neither right nor left as I have no doubt morning commuters were getting their big chuckle of the day at my expense. Back to work like nothing had happened although I'd skinned my elbow a little bit. I got ready to stick my paintbrush in the pot of black paint and to my horror, there he was. In my pot of black paint, struggling around. It was a pretty ugly situation. I wanted to toss the paint, but it was the only black I had, so I flicked him off into the weeds using my brush, sort of stirred the paint in case he had exuded any grasshopper juices and kept to my task. Thankfully the weeds were thick so I couldn't see him, but my imagination went wild with thoughts of a tortured demise coated in drying paint....
That was the big excitement of the whole experience outside of just laying on the colors and designs to my heart's content. That was exciting.
Box 3 was around the corner from the other two. I was able to pull my car right up next to it and that was a luxury. No more wagon. Indeed, it was also a bit more pleasant because it was on a side street with less traffic.
During the time I painted, I got to hear a train go by a couple of times per day. Very, very loud. The earphones could not begin to cover the whistle blast or should I say, blasts. At least 3. I'd take off the earphones and put my fingers into my ears until it was safe to take them out. During these times, the traffic has to stop and wait for the train to go by. Suffice to say, I got to breathe my share of exhaust fumes anyway, but during train times, it was overload. But, I survived to live another day.
It was a little bit strange, after more than a month to pack up for the last time. But then again, I was ready to be done. I might have done a couple of things differently, but feel pretty happy with the final result.
Not to say everyone else is, though. Our local newspaper has a section where people can call in and speak their minds, positive or negative, on any topic. The transformer boxes have come up and because taxpayers dollars were used to pay the artists, several people have made mention of this amongst other less economic related comments. One wanted to know which grade schoolers had painted the boxes and another said the boxes should have blended in more with the surroundings. Not been so colorful and so on. Well, it has been my experience that some people like one thing and some another. Some like my art, others don't give a rip. However, there is something about an anonymous caller making disparaging remarks that get published, that seems to me a bit out of line. It's fairly obvious that a certain type of person is rather cowardly and chooses to vent their unhappiness in this fashion. It's sometimes pretty funny, but sad, to read some of the ignorant things that people say in the paper.
Well, let them rant. I was privileged to be chosen. I enjoyed doing it and hope to be able to do it again. Art is a gift to mankind - all kinds of it. You can love it, you can hate it, you can feel somewhere in between or you can care nothing about it, but it's here to stay. Thank goodness for that.
