The artistic process is more often than not exponential. The blank canvas is paralyzing. Hesitantly, the artist starts big, avoiding the nitty-gritty details and daunting aspects of the piece. The pace is quickened as a sense of ease fills the artist. Then, it becomes impossible to separate artist and canvas - creation is now a necessity. 

On this final week, Daniel moves faster than ever before. The reveal party is approaching, so there’s a deadline to meet. A thunderstorm earlier in the week pushes us back a day, so the entire schedule is shifted so that every day from Saturday to Wednesday is a painting day. Temperatures soar into the high 20s and low 30s, with no shade to cover. Still, each day Daniel shows up and paints for as long as he can.

There is no hesitation in him. The first day, he nervously walked around the container, too nervous to commit to a single line. Now, Daniel works feverishly. He scans over his spray cans with a cool confidence, picking up one and immediately begins. Daniel’s favourite colour is now a dark blue, which he uses to outline every single aspect of the mural. 

Earlier in the project, Daniel and I were more chatty. We would talk as he worked, me staking out under the table in a futile attempt to hide from the sun. But now, I feel more sheepish when asking my questions. I prefer to observe now, saving the questions for later. Daniel works with confidence, always knowing where he’s going to paint next and how exactly he’s going to do it. In the beginning, he always painted with his phone in hand, frequently glancing back at his original sketch. As we progress, I see less and less of this. I like to imagine that he now has it memorized and intuitively knows where everything goes.

Going to the container site always puts me in a good mood. We listen to music, joke around, and work together to fix problems. But frankly, my body feels run down after each session. The sun exhausts me and there tends to be a lot of walking and standing around involved. I opt to go to the site every other day, leaving Daniel to work on his own for the days I’m not there. On Wednesday, I decided to catch up on Daniel and his progress. 

“So Daniel, what was the progress that you made yesterday on the mural?”

“Yesterday? I finished the left side of the mural, did the moon, and did more outlining with this blue colour.”

“Why did you pick blue for this outline?”

The recording I took is noisy. Next to us, an apartment complex is being built. Daniel speaks over the harsh sounds of machinery. “Whenever I do my art, I hate using black as an outline colour. Personally, for me, it’s so bland and boring. The blue helps the other colours pop more. And it looks really good with the fire. Originally there was only supposed to be a splash of blue on the inside, but I feel like having it as an outline instead makes it look more colourful and ultimately better.”

“What about the moon? I know that’s an image you have used in previous art pieces.”

“The piece is dream-like. I wanted to put the moon in to give people the sense of a dream world.”

Daniel begins painting again. When I ask about his goal for the rest of the day, Daniel tells me he is intent on finishing. “How do you feel about it?” I ask.

“Really excited! At first, I was super self-conscious. But now I’m feeling good about it and it’s finally coming together. It looks like how I envisioned it.”

“Do you want people to take pictures in front of it?”

“That would be fun. I think people will take pictures in front of the fire and Converse especially. I’ve decided to put my name right under the fire so people know who did it.”

And so begins the day. He has one big obstacle left to conquer: the gigantic face. It takes up most of the space on the right side of the mural. The hair is already painted and there’s a vague sketch of the facial features. I sit back and watch Daniel work, nervous about the outcome. He begins with the main colour until the face is pale. I become antsy, hoping that he can pull it off. Daniel grabs for the blue and white, begins creating the eyes. He finishes the irises with a splash of green. 

The result is amazing. Daniel managed to perfectly create the face. It has a bored, detached face, the type of expression you’d only see on someone who’s daydreaming. Daniel’s face, however, is nothing but joy and excitement. Everyone leaves their work to gander at the gigantic bust, staring in awe at Daniel’s work. He accepts their congratulations before returning to work. He paints the dinosaurs - which I have been anticipating the entire time - and draws stars in every free space he can find. As the night cools, the final details are added and finally, the mural is finished. Daniel is ready to sign his name under the fire as previously discussed. Halfway through his first name, I suggest he does different layers of his name, one in each colour of the fire. He loves the idea. For the final colour, I whip out my camera and start rolling. After painting the final “E” in a golden orange colour, Daniel jumps up enthusiastically, outstretches his arms and yells, “Ta-da!!!”

I stay behind when Daniel leaves to take pictures for Jax as he pulls together the finishing touches. No less than five minutes later, a pair of women approach the mural and decide to take a picture in front of the fire and Converse.

The Reveal Party

On the day of the reveal party, I mull over what to wear. I know it will be hot, so I opt for a dress. I finally land on my long polka dot dress and pair it with my usual flip flops. Per usual, I arrive too early. I leave my things in the storage container and head to buy food - I opt for potato wedges, a lemonade, and an apple from the local supermarket. When I return, Daniel has already arrived. He’s wearing white jeans and a loose yellow button-up with colourful illustrations. Throughout the evening, many will ask Daniel about the shirt - thrifted, as usual. The other artists slowly arrive and anxiously await the press. Soon enough, the two of us are pulled over by the CBC. Daniel is anxious, so we practice “power poses” to feel more confident. “Didn’t you watch the TED Talk about power poses?” he asks.

From behind the camera, I watch as Daniel nails his interview, now confident in his message and his art. Later on in the day, we take pictures with the local newspaper, where I pretend to take a photo of Daniel jumping in midair. Afterwards, Daniel says, “I’m a professional jumper now!”

Daniel’s friends and family arrive in waves. For many, it is their first time seeing him since March. Some run into his arms and others opt for a simple high-five. Everyone takes a picture of Daniel in front of his mural, beaming to see him in front of his work. So many photos are taken. Everyone is ecstatic.

There are teary goodbyes and promises to stay in touch. At the end of it all, Daniel is understandably spent. He rests near his mural and spots a spray can nozzle, which he pockets as a final souvenir.

He’s glad for it to be over. We all are over wearing our masks for five hours straight. But there’s a somberness that looms over the site. A gentle breeze sways and the moon is now visible in the still-light sky. We pack our things, we say goodbye, and we all hug one another, coming up with schemes to hang out more. I say goodbye to Daniel and make my way back home.

It is only a couple of days later that the Instagram posts with Daniel’s mural start to roll in.