It Takes a Village: The Obstacles and Miracles of a 10.5-Foot Mural
When I was commissioned to paint a mural in North Carolina, I was thrilled. But almost immediately, the plan changed: they didn’t want it painted on-site. They wanted it to be portable so it could move with them if they ever changed locations.
Suddenly, I wasn’t just an artist; I was a logistics manager, a shipping coordinator, and a student of large-scale construction. I knew this would be a challenge, but I also knew that with the kindness of others, I could get it done.
Building the Impossible
Since I couldn’t paint on the wall, I had to build a wall.
It felt like a series of "mini-miracles" started happening just to get the project off the ground. Experienced artists helped me find the right canvas; experts on the phone taught me how to work with folded canvas; and friends like Ryan and Lori built custom stretcher bars and delivered them to my door. When my original studio space fell through because the ceiling was too low, my roommates stepped up and let me take over our high-ceilinged living room.
The "Hot Mess" Phase
"Before I could even start painting, I had to face the frame. I realized I had completely forgotten how to stretch a canvas. I’d only done it once back in college on a much smaller scale, and when I tried to look up videos online for help, everything I found was for tiny canvases that didn’t apply to a 10.5-foot beast like this. My friend Jed came over to help me, but our first try was unsuccessful—it just wasn’t getting tight enough. We had to pull all the staples out and start completely over. We worked inch by inch, using a manual stapler and a small stretching tool, for four hours with just a few breaks. I was extremely stressed the entire time because it felt like it would never happen. But finally, we finished and lifted it up. When I touched the canvas and felt it bounce back at me, I realized it was actually taut enough to paint on! I was so thrilled and just so grateful that Jed stuck it out with me, even when it felt like a lost cause for a while."
Once I started painting, the trees looked like a "hot mess." I hadn't drawn them in enough detail, and at that scale, I felt lost. But I kept going, focused on the potential of the piece rather than what was right in front of me. Painting the mural did take me longer than anticipated, but I was happy to see it progress one section at a time. I was thrilled once I heard the painting was approved.
The Shipping
After pulling out hundreds of staples with the help of friends, my friend Miguel stayed until 1:00 AM packing the mural up so it could be transported safely. He even built custom-made wooden lids to fit inside the sona tubes. Sona tubes are usually used to pour concrete, not to ship things. But you can’t buy a 12-foot 16-inch wide shipping tube with lids.
The next day, the UPS store told me their freight shipping companies would no longer ship art. Other companies said the same. I spent days researching and worried—worried about the cost, worried the paint wasn't dry enough, worried it would crack after being rolled up for two months. Eventually, I found a specialty art shipper, and I just had to hold my breath and trust.
The Final 24-Hour Save
The surprises didn't end in North Carolina. On the Monday before the unveiling, we discovered the frame was 11 inches too tall for the room. I hadn’t factored in the hanging space or the baseboards. I also got some incorrect measurements and didn’t think to ask different people to measure, just in case.
But as it had been throughout this whole journey, help appeared right when I needed it. An installer I found at the last minute shortened the frame, and I spent the final hours before the unveiling repainting the bottom of the mural to fix the "crop." By 8:00 PM the night before the reveal, it was finally, truly finished.
What I Learned
Looking back, this mural is a map of friendships and community. From my dad helping me problem-solve, to my brother filming, to the friends who helped me pull staples late at night—this art belongs to all of us.
I learned that you don't have to have all the answers to start. You just have to be willing to ask for help, keep going when it looks like a "hot mess," and believe that somehow, the miracles will show up.
