{"id":55,"date":"2009-09-02T20:06:29","date_gmt":"2009-09-03T00:06:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/?p=55"},"modified":"2009-09-02T22:00:27","modified_gmt":"2009-09-03T02:00:27","slug":"mural-masterpiece","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/?p=55","title":{"rendered":"Mural masterpiece"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Fort Worth Star-Telegram (Texas)<\/p>\n<p>Pride and a new vision bring a seasoned artist back to his original creation on a butcher shop wall.<\/p>\n<p>BYLINE: Dawn Shurmaitis, Special to the Star-Telegram<\/p>\n<p>The Michelangelo of Mansfield Highway is at it again.<br \/>\nHe squints one brown eye. Sticks out one flat thumb.<\/p>\n<p>Frowns.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve got to highlight the clouds more. Shadow in over here,&#8221; said<br \/>\nartist Pete Foster about the Arizona scene he is creating on the<br \/>\nconcrete side of The Butcher Shop.<\/p>\n<p>Painting sure and fast, Foster fills in rough charcoal outlines of<br \/>\nyucca, cactus, cows and cowboys with just-mixed splashes of brilliant<br \/>\nred, lush green and warm yellow.<!--more--><\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I just buy five colors, and I can make anything I want to,&#8221; he<br \/>\nsaid, gesturing to ever-blooming cactus and lifelike prickly pears.<\/p>\n<p>Foster has labored over the mural for two months, working from a<br \/>\nshopping cart crowded with plastic pots of paint and a cardboard box<br \/>\nof long-handled, soft-haired brushes.<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s the second time he has painted this particular wall on this<br \/>\nparticular butcher shop at 4016 Mansfield Highway. Artistic pride and<br \/>\na new vision propelled him back to a job he first tackled in 1981.<\/p>\n<p>Twelve feet high, the dreamy scene stretches 60 feet across. It&#8217;s<br \/>\njust one of dozens of murals the 70-year-old artist has created in<br \/>\nthe past 25 years.<\/p>\n<p>He has painted, it would seem, half the country: bald eagles in<br \/>\nOklahoma, stagecoaches in Ardmore, pastures in Tampa.<\/p>\n<p>One theme persists: the Wild West.<\/p>\n<p>The half-Cherokee returns again and again to bull-chested<br \/>\nlonghorns, coal-powered locomotives and dust-covered cowpokes.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I do big stuff,&#8221; he said, tossing back black hair arranged in an<br \/>\nElvis do.<\/p>\n<p>Foster speaks quickly in a pure Texas twang, punctuating each<br \/>\nsentence with a tug on the arm, a poke in the shoulder or a tap to<br \/>\nthe forehead.<\/p>\n<p>Paint fills the creases criss-crossing his sun-worn hands and face<br \/>\nand dots his sturdy leather shoes.<\/p>\n<p>Paint colors his dreams.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;You either got it or you hadn&#8217;t,&#8221; he said, insisting that his<br \/>\ntalent comes naturally. He said he never took an art lesson.<\/p>\n<p>With prompting, his life story tumbles out. Denton born. Adopted.<\/p>\n<p>Daddy was in aircraft. Mama had money. Sign painter. Mural maker.<\/p>\n<p>Music man &#8211; mostly steel guitar.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re gonna be shocked. Lookee here,&#8221; he said, pulling out a<br \/>\nwell-thumbed portfolio containing his life story.<\/p>\n<p>The proudest moment in his long career came in Denver in 1985. He<br \/>\nearned $ 30,000 for painting a 280-foot-long train scene inside Union<br \/>\nStation.<\/p>\n<p>He won&#8217;t say what he&#8217;s earning for this particular job, insisting<br \/>\nhe doesn&#8217;t need money and makes do on Social Security. But over the<br \/>\nyears, he said, he&#8217;s ridden in Cadillac limosines and outspent<br \/>\nmillionaires.<\/p>\n<p>As he talks, he slips in the names of the famous and near-famous<br \/>\nhe has met over the years.<\/p>\n<p>Jimmy Carter&#8217;s mother. Dolly Parton&#8217;s manager. Florida&#8217;s governor.<\/p>\n<p>Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Hon, I&#8217;ve been around,&#8221; the wiry Texan said, pointing to a<br \/>\npicture in his portfolio of a cafe he painted where Bonnie and Clyde<br \/>\n(and later Faye and Warren) once visited.<\/p>\n<p>It hasn&#8217;t been easy, he said, making no apologies for his<br \/>\noften-wicked ways, speaking bluntly of past troubles.<\/p>\n<p>Hard liquor. Cocaine. Hepatitis. Almost died in \u201888.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Lots of people haven&#8217;t seen me in a while. They probably think<br \/>\nI&#8217;m still on liquor,&#8221; he said. &#8220;But I&#8217;ve been sober for years. &#8221;<\/p>\n<p>As much as he talks about himself, Foster talks more about the<br \/>\nbutcher shop&#8217;s owners, Don and Mary Dilks, who will have been married<br \/>\n36 years next month and are the parents of two and grandparents of<br \/>\nfour.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;These people here mean more to me than all the painting in the<br \/>\nworld,&#8221; said, Foster, who has been married once and single for a long<br \/>\ntime. &#8220;They are family for sure. &#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The couple and the artist met years back, after Mary Dilks,<br \/>\nherself an artist, painted a mural of a chuck wagon inside the shop.<\/p>\n<p>Customers, who daily pack the store for meatloaf, chicken-fried<br \/>\nsteak, bologna, foot-longs and the largest selection of smoked meats<br \/>\nin the area, responded.<\/p>\n<p>Soon, more artwork &#8211; most of it Foster&#8217;s &#8211; covered nearly every<br \/>\navailable inch of concrete outside.<\/p>\n<p>Eventually, Foster took off and wandered the country. And painted.<\/p>\n<p>But North Texas pulled him back. He returned, paintbrush in hand<br \/>\nand new visions in his head.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m 71 next May,&#8221; he said. &#8220;One day, I&#8217;d like to do a big<br \/>\ncoliseum or a stadium. That there would be pretty good. &#8220;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Fort Worth Star-Telegram (Texas) Pride and a new vision bring a seasoned artist back to his original creation on a butcher shop wall. BYLINE: Dawn Shurmaitis, Special to the Star-Telegram The Michelangelo of Mansfield Highway is at it again. He squints one brown eye. Sticks out one flat thumb. Frowns. &#8220;I&#8217;ve got to highlight the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-55","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-profiles"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=55"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=55"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=55"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dawnshurmaitis.net\/works\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=55"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}