What Happened When I Started to Draw on Walls

We’ve all been there—stuck at a job that isn’t awful but isn’t good, not as many invitations out as we used to have, and spending a lot of nights with the TV and a beverage of choice. I hit my wall after the New Year, a fairly typical time when hopes and dreams begin to dissolve. Still at the job that I survive daily, still not really sure what to do, I began to force myself back to my sketchbook. I started by just drawing a bit first thing in the morning, before all the worries of the day began to set in. Things that didn’t have much form started to turn into shapes and faces and then into mandalas.

I was hooked on drawing again, and even bought myself some new pens and sharpies to celebrate. And as I began to spend more time with my sketchbook and less time with my regret, I noticed that things started to shift in my world. I got the courage to post some of my mandalas in a Society6 store, and got some really positive feedback. A woman who weaves mandalas noticed me drawing in a cafe one day and eventually became a friend. And then one night on my patio, coloring away, I noticed that the wall outside of my apartment was the perfect size for a mandala. It was all I could think about. How could I get to work on that wall?

I mentioned to a friend that I was thinking about asking my landlord for permission to paint a mural. And my friend, being a very practical person, suggested that I start by asking if I could just draw on the wall. I could use chalk, which came in a variety of colors and would give me the freedom to change things as I wanted. Perfect! I rushed home to find my landlord and ask if I could draw on the wall. And with a great deal of skepticism and trepidation, I was told yes, just make sure you can wash it off.

I started with a not so perfect white circle. It grew into a lotus mandala that covered most of the wall. As I was going through the process, my landlord’s son came down to watch, and my new neighbor came down to marvel at what was happening just a few doors down. The best part, however, was when my landlord came down and said, I want you to do one for me, but with paint this time.

I’d been asked to do a mural before at an Asian Fusion restaurant, but eventually after I named my price the offer disappeared. I was a little nervous being asked again, but somehow this time was different. My landlord wasn’t seeing little sketches in a book, he was seeing my wall. He was seeing me come home from work every day and pull out my chalks, and add layer after layer of detail to my wall. And maybe he was seeing something release in me every time I added a little more because that is exactly what was happening. I let all of the anger and frustration and stress I was feeling go every time I came to the wall. I put on my music. I poured myself a glass of wine. I drew on the wall.

And when I was done with that wall, I started another one.

I felt my creative impulses expanding. My sketchbook was filling up. My walls were becoming much more interesting. A dream catcher and a mandala weaving also appeared outside in my patio space. I cleaned my altar for the first time in months. I started to meditate again. Work wasn’t getting any better, but I was.

And then I met a third wall. This was the wall that was going to be my first mural. I decided to make it a tribute to the Yoruba goddess Yemaya, a figure that has shown up in my life in many forms for many different reasons. She often takes the form of a mermaid, which is what came to me in the initial sketches.

Painting a wall is not quite the same as drawing on one. Aside from the fact that it is permanent, mixing colors for outdoor house paints is fairly tricky. Not to mention having to deal with all the friendly mosquitos that decided to visit me while I was working.

I’ve been with this wall for two days now. I have lovingly laid down a base coat, mixed and remixed colors, filled in gaps, and covered over drips. She is still not done, but I am enjoying the process. I am enjoying the feel of the brush against the wall, the way the paint goes on so shiny and dries to a smooth matte finish. I have reveled in watching a few white shapes become dancing arms and hair and tail. I delighted when a friend stopped by and said to me, She has so much movement. It felt good to see that my tricks were working. But what felt even better was my friend saying, And you look happy.

I am happy, not all the time and not without my fair share of problems, but still happy. Drawing on the wall has shown me that even if it is only for a few moments a day, we must live in our truths and passions. At some point I will move on from this job that stresses me, but in the meantime even this stressful situation is teaching me how to still be me in trying times, how to still take time for what matters, and how to be responsible not just for making sure the rent is paid and the lights are on, but to also tend to the light of my soul.