This Spring, I was entrusted with what I consider to be quite a high honor in my small world: to paint some signs for the Shakori Hills Grassroots festival.
This was quite a thrill for me, especially as I got to meet and paint alongside the creator of some of my favorite signs, that I have have found my self drooling over, over the past few years.
Here is Asheville Artist Leslie, working on a very involved sculptural sign she was making for the festival, similar to the one she crafted for the entrance gate. This woman has a lot of persistance and patience. (each leaf was hand cut with a jig saw).
I have to admit, it was a little bit intimadating working in the midst of a master. However, luckily, Leslie seemed to appreciate having some assistance in her sign making duties, and taking a chance on me, she doled out a few dutiful assignments: she handed me a list of various campgrounds, that needed signs to identify them. She also supplied me with a few blank sign boards on stakes, and some odd cans of paint, and pretty well left me to my own devices..
Deciding to take inspiration, rather than intimadation, from Leslie's awesome mixed media signs, I chose one called Old Homestead, and decided to try to hunt up some local rustic from around the farm...
First I found myself a good and weathered piece of old plywood, which a friendly fellow with some power tools kindly kut down to shape for me. I found some scraps of cedar that he had been karving away, and karted them away, back to our sign shack, and it was ON.
From the buckets of paint that Leslie directed me to, I chose a palette of earthy ochers. I first used a ruler I had brought along to measure and lay it all out (and this seemed this scored a few points with Leslie). Then I sketched out the letter, and layed in the paints. I tried to use the color and texture of the wood as an 'out line' color between the rusty red and greyish blue, but a lot of this tone was darkened beyond good effect when I layed down a sealent at the end. I used the cedar wedges as corner anchors. And to finnish it off, I pecked about the grounds, after the guinea hens, gathering up their spotted white feathers (what a jerk, they muttered). I drilled holes for these, and layed them in with some wood glue. Too much? Maybe for Siler City, but not for Shakori.
Well, I probably should have called it a day at this point, I had gained the tickets I was trying to earn, and probably several ticks on top. But I guess I felt needed, and was having fun, and so that pretty well sealed the deal. So, I did another one. But if there was any question remaining on the last one, on this one, it is confirmed that I got carried away..
From the list, I chose another campground needing a sign, this one called Middle Earth...
Middle Earth....seems so......Metal.
And then I painted, and painted, and it began to grow dark, yet still Metallica was ratcheting through my brain, driving me insane, I was deranged, techno/disco/metal, throbs my pain..
Bastard son,
I leave you now,
unto this Shakori world,
which may not want you at all.
As night pulls its veil
across my hooded eyes,
I wonder if, when the day arrives
you will find yourself despised.
But when the night subsides,
and I climb out of girlfriend's tent to arise,
I wick the dew from my chin,
and clamber back on my legs again,
and rub my bleary eyes...
In the woods, along path, on a mound, infront of a campground, my sign does stand alive!
I must thank Shakori Hills, for trying my sign on for size...
