Murals carry a specific kind of responsibility. My home office/studio is a place where I spend a lot of time… to make things, to connect with community, to teach, to learn, to work, to feel creatively at home. And the art on the walls is a part of the atmosphere that either supports that or undercuts it.
There's a specific sensation that happens right before you start something big. It's not fear exactly. It's more like... everything suddenly feels too important and every decision is going to matter more than it actually does. I know better at this point. I know nothing is that serious, that I can paint over things, change things, pivot if I need to. But still, we all know about the weight to a blank page, so imagine the weight to a blank wall!
Leaning into my influences
For my last wall mural, I used a traditional projector for the first time. I was curious, I wanted to see if it would speed things up or make placement easier. And I didn’t hate it, but I also didn’t love it. I mean, it worked. It was fine. That’s kind of the best way I can describe it.
So this time I went a different direction because I genuinely cannot help but want to try all the things. But before I get into the tech, let me back up because the more interesting part to me is what I was actually making and why.
There's a version of this project where I'd have been more cautious and picked something universally pleasant, stayed in my safe palette, kept it professional and clean. And it probably would have been fine. But I wanted to surround myself with what I’m actually drawn to, not just something that photographs well. That permission is rarer than it sounds. I think we all need to give a little bit of it to ourselves on a regular basis. A lot of creative work, especially work involves tamping down the more personal impulses in favor of something more legible… more palatable. But I say nay.
Inside Art Nest, we’ve been playing with this idea of looking at what you’re inspired by and then asking, “okay, how do I make this mine?” We’ve discussed how we can avoid “copying” it or referencing them in a detached, academic way, and rather inhabiting the influence by asking, “what does this actually mean to me? How can I uniquely interpret it?”
For this mural, I went deep into childhood Wonderland nostalgia. Imagery that made me feel like the world was bigger and stranger and more magical than I'd been told. The influence is obvious and I'm not trying to hide it 🥳 I'm honoring it and then pushing it somewhere personal ♥
I also added a challenge layer, because of course I did
During a Make Hour call inside the Art Nest recently, I mentioned that I don’t use enough blue in my artwork. So I made a promise: blue would be the main focus in my next 20 pieces. This mural counts as one of them.
And if you know me, you know I do not break a promise, and I most certainly don’t back down from a challenge.
Now. I know what you're thinking. This mural... does not look blue. However. The paint swatch says Everard Blue. It says blue. I used blue. I am not taking further questions. Hey - I don't name the paint colors (though I absolutely would love to).
This is what I'd call a WIN of a workaround, and a good workaround is a skill just like any other. Creative constraints are great right up until they aren't, and knowing when to be a little rebellious - even against yourself - is genuinely useful.
Using VR as a projector
Instead of freehanding everything or revisiting the traditional projector, I mapped the mural out using VR on the Meta Quest 3 headset. (Not sponsored, just genuinely excited about it.) The app I used, Contour, had pretty mediocre reviews, so I went in expecting it to feel clunky and overly technical and like something I'd abandon halfway through.
But it was SO easy. Like, weirdly easy.
I could place the design on the wall, scale it up or down, shift things around, and actually see what it would look like in the space before I even touched a single brush. That alone was useful. But the thing that genuinely excited me was that I could take a break and come back, and it remembered its position on the wall. (Breaks are important, as I keep telling myself.)
You can also adjust the opacity of the virtual projection… dial it way down to just a faint guide, enough to see without it competing with your paint. My original plan was to sketch the outlines, remove the headset, and fill things in from there, but the second I had the outlines and could see where the flowers were going... I just needed to see them in full bloom. I couldn't wait. I went straight into color blocking with the headset still on, and then I ended up freehanding most of the leaves.
How do you know when it’s finished?
This is one of the hardest parts of any big piece. Technically, I could have stopped earlier. The main elements were in place and it looked complete at a glance. But it didn't feel complete, and I've learned to trust that difference.
What I always-always do when I hit that point: I walk away (there’s that break I talked about). I came back the next day with fresh eyes and focused entirely on the background using a color almost identical to the base, just different enough to add depth without announcing itself. And then, naturally, the little twinkle stars to add a bit of texture.. something that makes the whole thing feel alive.
And instead of asking myself if it’s finished, I lead with: does this room feel like itself yet? She’s saying yes 🥹
I really want to try this – doesn’t it have a pretty short recharge time? Also how do your eyes feel afterwards? I’m a glasses/contacts wearer and eye strain can become an issue.