Toxic Art

The joy of spray paint

By DaraPublished 5 years ago • 6 min read

I started wearing a mask long before anybody had even heard of COVID-19. Least expecting myself to be ahead of a trend, I used to have red circles under my eyes where the mask touched the skin, and I know way too well the feeling of relief flooding your body when the mask is finally taken off. You would wonder what was the reason for wearing it? The answer might surprise you.

I am an artist. But my medium doesn’t come from the art and craft supply stores. As weird as it sounds, my treasure trove is... The Home Depot! Yes, that’s right! I am a spray paint artist, and my joy comes in colorful cans.

I started to play with them almost by accident — fixing some old and broken thing. I was covering the spot of the breakage with spray paint to make it look even, and was fascinated with the traces left on the old newspaper after I lifted off my finished project.

The effect was unexpected. Traces of the spray paint that missed the intended spot created an incredible pattern of a foggy strange universe right there — spots and blotches, gradients of fading color with occasional leaks and drips… Call me crazy, most people would see just a piece of garbage going to the trash can — I saw worlds, stars and galaxies, rays of light going through the darkness. I was hooked...

Being law abiding (with the only exception being the speed limit on highways — guilty as charged, I am a speeder), I was not even thinking about making graffiti and defacing someone’s property. But seeing the traces on the paper, I was inspired and headed straight to Staples for some poster paper — it was just the right size for my experiments. I got out an old tarp, placed it in the backyard and presto! My art studio was created!

I started to play with the leftover spray paint, first just one color, experimenting with traces, using different angles and various pressure on the nozzle. I hoped the fresh air in my backyard would be sufficient, but soon the toxic smell of the paint got to me. I am highly sensitive to smells, and a lot of times something that nobody else would even notice could drive me crazy. But this one was not easy to ignore, so I headed to my beloved The Home Depot once again. There it was — my first mask! I looked weird and almost alien, but the comfort it provided filtering the awful fumes was priceless! And of course, being there, I couldn’t resist and picked up some new spray paint cans. New colors, new possibilities! Yay!

I remembered how marvelous were the edges where the paint was blocked by the painted object. Trusty scissors in my hand, I started to create shapes and openings, using different pieces of paper to block the spray. That was a whole new game — I was able to create dreamy landscapes of strange distant planets, worlds with blazing volcanoes and frozen waterfalls... and that was just the beginning!

Could you imagine the possibilities? I started to rummage through garage sales and flea markets, looking for the objects I could use to block the paint or as stencils. Did you know that a pot lid has the perfect shape to create a planet? Torn piece of paper is marvelous for representing a mountain ridge? Straight edge gives you the ability to create a shimmering ray of sunlight rising above the ocean? My view of every day objects changed drastically — I became slightly obsessed with shapes and forms and edges... But still my paintings were nothing more then a weird pile of rubbish laying in my garage — until one day friend of mine looked at them and decided they should be framed.

It’s amazing how the package changes the perception — anything wrapped nicely could become a lovely gift. My stained paper put in frames was instantly transformed from a pile of junk into art pieces worth being displayed in the galleries — and so for the first time in my life I was stepping into a world of art, presenting myself as an artist.

But I didn’t stop there. A friend told me about a local theater looking for an artist to paint sets for a play. It was a modified version of Ugly Duckling, and they asked me to create grass. I was excited — green grass, yellow dandelions, bright and colorful butterflies, yay! In my mind a rainbow of colors was stirring into a joyful meadow full of life. But they told me — no, no, no, we only need grass, just simple green grass, nothing else!

I was a bit disappointed, but the client is always right, so I set up to create green grass on the evenly colored light blue set of walls and doors. I went to my trusty source — The Home Depot — and gathered my greens! Well, not exactly 50 shades of, but I sure got plenty to play with. Winter Green, Moss Green, Satin Leafy Green, Hunter Green, Eden, Green Apple, Oregano — just to name a few... Certainly, there were enough colors to satisfy my wishes, but I still mourned the dragonflies and flowers which were not allowed.

Only after I saw the sets onstage in the play, did I realize the beauty of the idea. Green grass used with different sets of lights was so versatile! It was representing the meadow, of course, but at the same time just with a different color of light it was transformed into the bottom of the river, playing the role of underwater weeds, and even a set of wall paper in a child’s room! I was amazed with unexpected result of my artwork.

Sadly, it was short lived — when the performance was over, the sets were repurposed in order to be used for the next show — but still my work brought a lot of joy to many people and was seen by an audience much wider than just art gallery visitors.

I was encouraged by the result, and so when flamenco studio was looking for a way to decorate the place for their annual show, I stepped up offering my art. They wanted bright screens to hide the music and lighting equipment — cables and boxes are not exactly what you want to see while watching flamenco dancers pouring their hearts into the rhythm.

My friend built nice cedar frames for the screens, and for the first time I was having a performance fright. One thing is to put spray paint on some pieces of garbage and transform them into art — you spoil them, nobody would care, you just try again... but these frames were so beautiful by themselves, I was terrified — what if I make a wrong move? Choose a wrong color or just spray accidentally into a wrong place? Suddenly my hands were shaking and I started to doubt myself.

We began with creating a screen — again, not the canvas from an art store, simple white muslin — scissors to the rescue, the roll of fabric was cut in proper pieces and attached to the frames with 128 nails... yes, the number is important!

I started to paint. And it all went wrong! I tried to fix it, adding more layers of color, mixing yellow with pink and red, but alas! It was impossible to salvage... I failed miserably and came inside crying, my eyes, already red and puffy from the mask, matched my red swollen nose when I tried to stop the tears flowing like a river that broke the dam… I ruined it, I totally ruined it!

“Relax,” my friend told me. “We can put new muslin on the frames, and you can try again…"

Scissors to the rescue once again! We pulled out 128 nails, the spoiled fabric was removed, new one was cut into pieces and 128 nails went into the frames again, holding position. The day was hot. I was outside — slightly baked in my mask, but with fresh hope... Somehow when I knew I could redo it, my hands were steady and my colors were setting properly.

Red roses bloomed on two beautiful sets of screens, and finally I was happy with my creation.

Even better, they were used year after year to create a dazzling atmosphere for annual flamenco show. It felt almost like I was dancing on the streets of Seville under the hot sun of Spain among the blooming roses covering the old stone walls...