Tuscan Trees in Mural

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

I have got trees now in my mural project! And they are not all bad . . . it is a start, anyway: One foot in front of the other. Well, now that it is behind me, I can confess that on the 14th, I lost my confidence. I am not sure why then, but . . . yes, I am. For all the preparation work that I did with perspective and composition decisions, once I got the enlarged drawing on the wall, it either was not what I thought I had designed or it was simply wrong; it did not work.

It is amazing how similar and yet how very different mural painting is from street painting. When I was street painting, people often asked me if I could do a large painting on canvas. “Sure,” I said, “this is what I do.” But when I quoted a price, many were stunned. Why would it be “so high” and take “so long” when I see you in the street recreating the Mona Lisa large, in one day, working for tips? Well, I do not mean to get off on a rant here, but basically, I was making temporary art on the street and a copy of someone else’s design. And while I always try to do a good job, street painting is more a performance art than it is fine art. I do not mean that in a negative way, by any means. I mean that I have a relatively short deadline and my main goal is to make an impression with a very large image during that time. Impress you. That is the goal of a street painter. Spettacolo!

Yes, of course I want to impress people with all of the art that I make. However, when I have time to design something and make it last, it is a whole other ballgame. There are other ways in which to impress. Yet there I was, standing before my work and not happy. I had redrawn the first figure because she just looked too small. And eventually did the same with the distant figure. And then, two days ago, I realized that the middle figure would not work at any size because the viewpoint to the model was wrong. She is below me (as viewer) and thus, my reference from my model must reproduce that viewing position.

I used to exhibit a terrible temper. But I have worked on that over the years because I did not want to be that person. I now tend to turn my anger inside and I am not too kind when I am angry with myself. Was mine an error in calculations (which I should know better!) or was I simply experiencing my first mural project and learning that theories are one thing, reality quite another? Harumph! Lucky me. Having a better understanding now of myself, I know that this love-hate thing is often a part of each creation. (Whew!) This is because I am trying something new with each artwork, even if it may not look like that to you.

Frustration turns to anger; anger to depression and lost confidence. I know that in this case, I was also feeling overwhelmed by what I wanted to accomplish, with a few voices telling me that I would not be able to do this project by my deadline. First step: breathe. Second: Slow down and take time to think about what needs to be done and in what order. Do not run. Walk. It is a tortoise-and-hare thing and progress is progress. I needed to stop thinking about being “forced” to move fast (not my forte), and get back to thoughts of making something worth seeing, regardless of deadlines.

So, I contacted my model and arranged to redo the pose for the figure I needed. In mural painting, unlike street painting, I must create the background first. I also need to create the scene before adding the figures into that scene. However, their sizes and placements help me determine other compositional elements in the whole work. That is why muralist Victor Goikoetxea told me that one always fully designs the mural before any of actual artwork gets done. There is none of this, “Let’s see where the artwork takes me” kind of thing possible in most other creative endeavors.

Allora, two days ago was a frustrating, but necessary part of this project. Today, the work is stronger; the figures sized into place. Yesterday, I got what I needed from the model, the lovely Anna Rosa. I also painted the first layer of the background. And I painted trees! I have another day at least ahead of me on the landscape, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. And as they say, “Let us just hope it is not the train.”

If you have followed my career much, you will remember the name of master sculptor Vasily Fedorouk, who was my friend and mentor. Sadly and suddenly, we lost him just over three years ago. His wife Dilbara and I have remained good friends and now she is prepared to sell a selected few pieces of Vasily’s artwork. I will be announcing these pieces, with their prices, in my next art newsletter, which will come out later this month or early October, once I have finished my mural project. If you would like to be one of the first to receive this information, please sign up for my art newsletter. You may preview past newsletters on the following page, if you like: http://www.borsheimarts.com/newsletter.htm

Hate, Fear and Love

Cari Amici (Dear Friends),

It is funny that knowing my process in making art does not give me much comfort when I am in the “suffering stage” of it. I know that there will be a light at the end of that tunnel, I just cannot seem to see it until I turn that mystical corner.

I started about five good-sized charcoal and pastel drawings some time ago, in preparation for my Open Studio in early February. Along with my efforts in marble, I knew that I could not get that many works finished in the time that I had, so I set my goal to develop each of the works to the point that others could have a pretty good idea of where I was headed.

The cold and rain have returned (so I carve less now) and I am able to get back to those Italian-inspired pastels. The basic idea is there for each of them, and now I work on creating the details that put a certain level of quality in my art that appeals to me (and I hope to you).


It is at this stage, when I see the work finished in my mind, but I have still the work to do, that I begin to hate the work. This is when I start dusting. Or working on taxes. Or writing my blog (ha). Or eating more than I should. Anything to procrastinate on my approach to the easel or the stone.

I know, I know, most artists want to speak of the joy in their efforts. Sure that is there, or it would be madness to continue. But there is a time during each creative effort in which the vision is mentally done, but the work is not. For a relatively short amount of time that feels like forever, I get bored with the doing. And I hate it. And I hate the work for making me feel that.

The hatred comes from fear. The fear is that I cannot create that which I envision; that I cannot live up to my hopes. Should I want to lose that kind of fear? Absolutely not! That fear is my strength. It keeps me learning. However, I must learn to face this fear, again and again. My faith that I can turn the hatred into love now comes from experience. I know that each time that I approach the easel when I feel this hatred for the task and work through it, I am one step closer to my goal.

Today, I plodded along and then … finally . . . , I got lost in the shapes and colors I was applying on a small section of the drawing. And later, it dawned on me that I was turning that corner: that glorious and familiar corner. And now, I am once again in the infatuation stage that will grow and grow until I realize that love has entirely replaced the hatred. Love has replaced fear.