Painting on the Levee—sorta

I learned how to knit with yarn and to repel with a rope in the last two weeks. Knitting was something I have always planned on trying. Repelling, not so much. In some ways they are kind of the same. Both require knots made from fiber. The success of both requires extreme attention to detail. Both involve specialized equipment and have an intricate vocabulary. I don’t know anyone who thinks knitting is an extreme sport, but avid knitters are as passionate as avid climbers. Comparing and contrasting unlikely things is my jam.

Here is what I learned about myself. I need a purpose and a reason. Knitting was difficult for me. It’s so tedious that I fall asleep or my mind wanders and I add rows or drop stitches. I restarted seventeen times and my single attempt at making a dishcloth was a success—it def looks like a rag. I might never make socks or a hat, but I don’t really care either. That’s what Christmas presents are for! I don’t necessarily care about climbing either, but I want to paint the mural more than anything. When I went to my climbing lesson, I was hyper focused. And while I am no climbing Ninja, nor will I ever be, I definitely feel confident that I am not going to die. And I was ready to roll.

I took Shayne out to the levee with me when I went to just practice, so I’d have a witness if something went wrong. He is pretty catatonic these days, so my judgement is questionable, but I AM PAINTING ON THE LEVEE, so questionable judgement is a known factor here. Getting Shayne to get out of bed is a huge feat. When he saw the concrete wall, he said, “You’re going to paint on that?” Then he said said, “ why do I feel like you are going to fall in the river. “ Then he paced up and down saying —“This is a bad idea,” over and over and over. I stepped out onto the wall just to get away from his pacing. After I walked up and down a few times with the ropes, he said, “maybe you won’t die.. Can we get Taco Bell? ”

My big plan was to hit the road at 4:30 and get to the levee at dawn. But then I thought about who is out and about at night and realized that 6:00 ish was plenty early. I got my gear out, got all set up, poured primer in the pan and started rolling it out, sitting at the top of the levee. Approximately three minutes later, I was ready to go down the wall. It took me about ten seconds to realize that I couldn’t negotiate the pan, the brush and the rope. And then the paint sloshed all over my thigh. Then I went to put the pan down and realized it would just slide right into the river. So I sat down, facing the river and painted scootching down ever few minutes, holding the damn pan. After about an hour of this, I realized that if I was going to be terrified the entire time, I was never going to get it done. I took my empty pan and roller to the top of the wall, hooked on the paint can to my caribiner and finished painting the first 12 by 24 section. When I got done, my feet were on fire, I had rope burns on my thighs and two blisters on my fingers and I was starving.

My friend, Susan snd her dog, Chardy came out and we ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and other ymmy stuff under the fourth street bridge and then I went back to it. I thought I could get at least half of the primer done, but my legs were shaky and it was getting hot and I knew I needed to pack it in for the day. I did ride my bike over to the other side of the trail to get some pictures. It looks pathetically weak, especially for it being the hardest physical thing I have ever done.

But there is no way I’d quit now. It’s bound to get easier, right?