Passion project:
painting collabs for art education
In second grade, we made an igloo out of empty milk cartons. In third grade, we cut 2-liters longways so their sides opened up into flowers petals. The world is full of old, unwanted things that are full of potential beauty, waiting to be unlocked by a creative mind.
​
Recently, I've been visiting thrift shops in search of original, handmade paintings with potential for rejuvenation. As I was preparing to reimagine the paintings, I began to wonder about the stories behind the art.
​
A pair of nearly identical landscapes told the story of two brief romantic encounters. Each painting was adorned with two different signatures at the bottom. I can't help but assume that two close friends went for the classic Bob Ross double date. I think it's cute that each couple only painted one canvas together, surely an attempt to get closer to their dates. The fact that the paintings ended up at DI tells me things didn't work out in the long run.
​
My art hunt led me to a number of different thrift stores, including one that had been set up in what used to be a normal house. Google Maps didn't show me what the building looked like, so I nearly missed it, mistaking it to be just another home on Center Street. What a clever way to reuse an old, unwanted building.
​
The interior of "Treasure Plus" was piled wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling with books, toys, trinkets, furniture, and—lucky for me—art. Most of the art shelves were jam-packed with sun-faded prints of Jesus and dust-covered frames occupied by overused uplifting quotes. So many pieces from so many homes, all converging in one place. I felt like I was browsing a graveyard of forgotten decor, donated en masse by busy people cleaning out the homes of their recently deceased relatives. There, I found my first piece: a wide panorama of Venice.
The painting had been carefully rendered with detailed stokes of thick paint all across the canvas (a technique that my art history professor called impasto). It seemed to be a labor of love, probably done by an experienced painter who fell in love with the canal city on an anticipated trip to Europe. While the workmanship showed patience and care, the state of the painting told a different story. The staples that held the canvas to the frame it was stretched around had started to rust and tear through, leaving the frame littered with little tassles of torn fabric.
​
If any painting deserved a second life, this one did. And I immediately knew how. This discarded gem would set the scene for a tribute to my favorite superhero. I took it home and got to work, recreating the Venice battle from Spider-Man: Far From Home.
I don't know who painted this scene, but I hope they don't mind my defacing it. I like to think that they're glad someone is enjoying their art once more, even if it's not how they expected. It feels like a unique sort of collaboration, like a game, almost.
At the store, the painting was missing a price tag. When I asked how much, the owner shrugged. "Twenty?" she said, much to my relief. I was worried she might say more. I'm not sure I would have paid much more for it. Now that I've added my touch to the piece, however, I've already been offered a lot more than twenty dollars for the piece. My roommate wants to hang it above his bed. With a little extra paint and just one fresh idea, I've increased the retail value of the art to over triple its original worth.
​
My collection currently has three finished pieces with at least two more on the way. I'm always on the lookout for more original paintings to reimagine. I have one of the two double date mountain landscapes. (I wonder where the other will end up.) The other one on deck is a sheet of homemade papyrus with an acrylic Egyptian-style painting on it. I'm still deciding how to reimagine those. The lake might get a Loch Ness Monster, in honor of my mission.
(Click image to expand)
Once I have enough pieces done, I'm planning to auction them off and donate the profits to help support art education. I was lucky enough to go to a school that had enough funding to run a gifted education program and supply all the art supplies we could ever need. Because education plays such a pivotal role in the lives of young people (and therefore the next generation of the world and its leaders), I've always felt that it's something worth investing in. And unfortunately, when schools need to cut budgets, funding for the arts is almost always first to go.
​
Hopefully, through my efforts, I can pay it forward from the foundational classroom learning experiences I've had and make a difference for those in need. That way, the paintings that were once forgotten can become not only a new, fun piece, but also a mechanism of doing real good in the world.
