BOARDS ACROSS HERMOSA Part 2


The Boards Across Hermosa organizers had received 70 surfboards as donations for artists to paint.  The same email that told me that I was one of the participants indicated the boards were "first-come, first-serve".  I immediately drove to Hermosa in a panic hoping there would still be a board small enough to fit in my Honda Civic and proceeded due to my ignorance, to select one based on size rather than condition.  I didn't see the damage until I set it up in the backyard.  I soon  returned to YouTube videos, this time for tutorials on repairing surfboards.  

This latest development was quite disturbing.  Had I any inkling that the board might need to be repaired as well as painted, I would never have tried to wiggle my way into this.  The most depressing thought was that this was surely just the first of many unexpected pitfalls that lay ahead.  I struggled with the obvious question - press on or quit?  

Normally, I find great comfort in the path of least resistance but I had unfortunately passed the point of no return to my way of thinking when I took home the damn board.  Also adding to my commitment was the $265 I'd had to lay out for tools and materials.  


Removing the wax, sanding and cleaning the board and repairing the dings took a long time.  The repairs I made where the fiberglass had been torn/broken off were okay but the surface was hopeless.  It looked as though the board had undergone years of being pummeled with bowling balls.  Painting the board began with a spray can of acrylic cerulean blue to cover the entire surface and provide a background for Betsi.  I was certain that I followed the YouTube instructions closely but after 2 coats there were some blotches and instead of a glossy smooth surface, it felt like a terry cloth towel.  Perhaps it was the wrong type of paint, or I applied too much paint, or both?

The next step was to create a 1/3 scale grid and image on paper based on the photo and then a full-size grid on the board to help me get Betsi's proportions correct.  This wasn't included in any of the surfboard painting videos but I wanted to make sure that at least one step in the process went smoothly.  Although I've never tried this before on a surfboard, I am familiar with the technique.  This is the first step in the process where I wasn't completely at sea; and as it turns out - the last step as well.
 




At this point I abandoned the effort and went to Catalina for a week during which I was plagued by thoughts that the image I had in mind might be overly simplistic.  Never the less, I was stuck with it as there was too little time remaining to start over.

I had purchased the type of acrylic paint recommended by the YouTube videos and as I prepared to paint betsi onto the cerulean background it became obvious that I was doomed.  It was similar to The Old Man and the Sea where Santiago collapses from exhaustion in his little skiff, unable to fend off the sharks from his catch, realizing his considerable efforts leading up to now were pointless, he'd gone out too far and he was beaten.

As I looked over the stuff I'd bought, I realized I knew nothing about acrylic paint - which brushes to use, how to mix it, blend it, thin it or remove it; let alone paint with it.  It's taken me 4 years to advance beyond the beginner's level with colored pencils; what are the chances that I can master working with acrylic paint in the 3 days remaining until the deadline?

The YouTube videos I had seen had shown glimpses of thinning and mixing acrylic paint to arrive at a desired color.  It was carried out effortlessly as a task that had become second nature to the persons being filmed.  This was done with little to no explanation based on what I gathered was the assumption that although viewers may not have experience painting a surfboard. they at least were familiar with the medium.

I am ashamed to admit that I completely threw in the towel at this point and resorted to using the paints I bought as is.  There is an unwritten law that regardless of the medium, one NEVER uses the colors provided by the manufacturer without mixing/altering/adjusting them in some manner.  As an example, a common practice to ensure adherence to this law with oil paints is for the artist to produce all the colors in a work from three blobs on their palette (blue, yellow and red).  To any purist, applying paint straight out of the tube classifies you as a schmuck and a felon.  

Compounding the irresponsible nature of my action was the limited number of colors available in the acrylic markers.  As I reviewed the range of colors I had selected it seemed as though I had somehow been influenced by the packaging of Dorritos.  I struggled with using the paints for 2 full days.  When I finally finished painting, it was genuinely painful to look at.


 


The Old Man and the Sea analogy now fell away altogether.  Santiago had explained to the young boy that he had gone out too far, whereas I had no business going out at all.  

The final step was to apply a protective coating with a spray can of clear acrylic.  There were several videos devoted entirely to this single task that consisted mostly of warnings that stressed the need to read and re-read closely, the detailed instructions on the can.  Supposedly, applying the clear coat without taking atmospheric conditions into account can lead to tragic results.  I consulted the weather channel and discovered the only place with the required humidity, temperature and indirect light was the biosphere in Tucson, Arizona.  I decided that the back yard will have to do.   




I delivered the board to a restaurant in Hermosa the following day.  One of the organizers showed me a photo on her phone of a board painted by her son for the event.  It was terrific.  Her son had painted a dozen small scenes from Hermosa covering the board like scattered post cards.  Each one was so skillfully rendered they might as well have been photographs.  

It reminded me of the Pinewood Derby when I was a kid.  The day of the derby I had shown up with my clunky-looking car with the number "9" written in pencil on one side of the block and having rounded off the corners slightly with sandpaper.  It never occurred to me to do anything fancy.    

At least in that instance I could legitimately claim ignorance having no inkling that the competiton would use lead weights and convert their woodblocks into perfectly aerodynamic darts by means of the wind tunnel at JPL. 

With the surfboard, I knew in advance where things were headed and because of that, this time the sting of humiliation was even worse.