Mural Monday — Mural 13

Ana Gabriela
5 days ago
5 min read

Updated: 3 days ago

In mid-2022, I sat in a meeting with the director of the Vancouver Downtown Association, discussing a series of banner designs I was creating for the city.

Halfway through our conversation, he shared a challenge he’d been facing: he had been trying to commission a mural for the side of a church building downtown, but the original concept presented to him looked more like something meant for a skate park than a historic district.

The design didn’t fit the space, the neighborhood, or the purpose and he was running out of time. He invited me to walk with him to the wall, so we left the office and made our way over to the building. The moment I stood in front of it, I felt it, the story it needed to tell. When he asked what I envisioned, the idea came straight from the heart:

“I see this as the Heart of Vancouver. I see a bright yellow heart surrounded by local flowers growing out of it. Yellow symbolizes friendship, and the flowers represent how Vancouver is a place where community grows, always blooming, always expanding.”

He paused, smiled, and said, “Send me a proposal.”One week later, the project was mine.

This wall was over 1,200 square feet, making it the largest mural I had ever taken on at the time. Due to a few delays, we weren’t able to start until late October, which meant we were racing the weather. Thankfully, Vancouver blessed us with a stretch of crisp, sunny days, and I had an incredible team behind me: one non-painting assistant who stayed the full 10 days and one painting assistant who joined for three.

Day 1: Getting Supplies on the Roof (and Our First Reality Check)

The wall sat on the second story of the building, which meant everything, ladders, gallons of paint, the sprayer, rollers, had to get onto the roof. So we rented a boom lift and used it to get everything safely up top. Day one was devoted to prep: cleaning the wall and priming with a Graco Magnum X7 Airless Sprayer.

We laid down one full layer of white primer and another layer for the base coat. This took all day, mainly because none of us had ever used a sprayer before, so it was a lot of trial, error, and laughter.

It didn’t take long to realize the next problem: Our ladders weren’t tall enough to reach the top of the wall.

So we did what any resourceful mural team would do... we climbed onto the roof of the adjacent building and painted from there. At one point, we tied a rope to the sprayer hose to lift it onto the roof because trying to roll paint from the top was… chaotic, messy, and definitely a workout.

That night, once the base coat dried, we came back after dark with a projector. There was no way I was freehanding a 10-foot-tall heart and risking anything less than perfect symmetry. The projection gave us a clean outline to start with the next morning.

The Creative Rhythm — Paint All Day, Redesign All Night

The next morning, we began spraying the heart and the first few flowers. I quickly realized something: for the mural to feel organic, natural, and alive, I needed to design it as we went, not fully in advance.

So every day for the next week, this was my routine:

Pick up my assistant
Climb up and down ladders all day, painting dozens of flowers
Step back, take progress photos
Drive home
Shower
Turn on a movie
Redesign the florals digitally
Sleep
Repeat

It was exhausting.

But as we got further on the wall, our ladder dilemma only got worse. A friend offered to lend me a 28 ft ladder, which was a blessing, but there was no way to fit it up the stairs to the roof, and we didn’t have the budget for another boom lift.

So… I called in backup.

I asked a few friends to help, tied my best climbing knots to the ladder, and we hauled it up the side of the building using ropes. It was way harder than we thought, but it worked — and with that ladder, I could finally finish the last few feet of the mural.

The Final Day — A Win, a Loss, and a Lesson

When the painting was finally complete, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride. I had never created something so large, so public, or so meaningful. The wall glowed, a bright yellow heart blooming with flowers native to the region, representing everything I love about Vancouver: friendship, community, and growth.

All that was left was the anti-graffiti coating. I had been assured that our sprayer and the coating were compatible. They were… not.

Within seconds of the coating entering the machine, it clogged, backfired, and completely covered me in the stuff. We tried everything to fix it, but the sprayer didn’t survive. Losing it was a big hit at the time, but we rolled on the coating manually and finished strong.

Why This Mural Will Always Matter

The Heart of Vancouver will forever be one of my favorite projects. It was my first truly big wall, and it taught me:

I am capable of far more than I think
Preparation matters — and so does flexibility
I need to set bigger budgets so we can have optimal, safer conditions and the right tools
Community projects hold a special kind of magic

When I look at this mural, I see more than flowers or a bright yellow heart. I see the beginning of believing in myself as a large-scale muralist.I see a city I love reflected in paint. And I see the moment I realized I could do anything I set my mind to.

What It Taught Me

This mural taught me more than any project I’d done before, truly a crash course in what it means to work at scale, to work safely, and to work smart. Looking back, it feels like this wall was its own teacher.

First, I learned the importance of having the right equipment from the very beginning. The ladder complications alone were enough to convince me that investing in proper gear isn’t optional.

And along with that came another lesson: I needed to let go of my pride and hire help. This was a massive project, far bigger than something one person should tackle alone, and bringing people onto the team wasn’t a weakness; it was necessary.

I also learned that not all projectors are created equal, and painting a 1,200-square-foot mural is not the time to rely on one that’s semi-broken. And while I definitely perfected the art of cleaning a paint sprayer… I also learned how to break one. (RIP to my first sprayer. You tried your best.)

This project also reminded me that safety isn’t optional. I am not invincible, no matter how determined or excited I am. Spray paint requires masks. Anti-graffiti sealant definitely requires masks. Long days in the sun require sunscreen, hats, protective clothing, and actual breaks — not the “I’ll drink water when I remember” version of breaks I usually took.

And finally, I learned a lot about myself as an artist. Spray paint is fun, but I still love hand-painting more. Big walls demand big planning. And the mural world is equal parts creativity, logistics, problem-solving, and resilience.

I’m sure I learned even more than what’s listed here, because this mural changed my entire outlook on my business. It stretched me, humbled me, empowered me, and sharpened me. It taught me what it really means to be a muralist — not just an artist who paints walls, but an artist who can navigate challenges, protect their energy, plan for safety, and still create something beautiful in the end.