designing art. PART 1

FROM CONCEPT

THROUGH COMPLETION

How we develop a custom technique to bring a sunset ocean to life

Some projects begin with a sketch. Others begin with a question.

In this case: How do you hand paint a 35 foot tall abstracted sunset? And, how do you do it in a feasible way that could tie back to the concept you pitched to the client?

What we set out to create wasn’t just a mural. It was a massive, dimensional art feature - spanning 35 feet tall and 27 feet wide, composed of 35 individual stacked panels, each over 3.5 feet wide and 8 feet tall. The inspiration? That fleeting San Diego moment when the ocean meets the sun - deep blues crashing into bright oranges, gentle greens drifting into soft golds. Not a flat gradient. Not a graphic print. An calm, atmospheric, handmade blend that can overwhelm you.

But there was no template for this. So we built our own.

Step One: Capturing the Feeling Digitally
We started on paper, and moved directly into the model.

Initial sketches quickly gave way to digital color studies - layered blends of abstract movement and soft transitions. We worked in wide strokes, experimenting with how much emotion we could pack into a palette. The goal wasn’t to recreate a sunset literally - but to recreate how it feels to stand in front of one.

Early on, we considered printing it. Technically clean, yes. But emotionally? Flat. We missed the texture. The human touch. The imperfections that make a piece feel alive.

So we pivoted. We were going to paint it. All 945 square feet of it. By hand.

Step Two: Making a System for Something Organic
How do you take something as fluid as color and apply it with precision at scale?

We started with color theory - distilling our wide ranging gradient down to 10 core hues. Each color was assigned a letter. That became our visual language. Using those letters, we built a grid. It was equal parts color map and choreography - every line corresponding to a specific color and position, guiding the brush without limiting motion.

But translating a digital gradient into physical paint meant more than just numbers. It meant pressure. It meant rhythm. It meant blending paint in a way that still felt like it had a soul.

Step Three: Prototyping the Blend
We didn’t guess - we tested.

On small 1’x8’ boards, we experimented: spacing, stroke weight, paint viscosity, brush width, and more. Eventually, we engineered a rig- a wooden sled holding two rows of brushes. The first laid the color down. The second softened the transitions. We tested squeeze bottles, brush pressure, even the amount of paint that felt right. 

After six prototypes, we had something that worked.

But that was still small scale. We needed to scale it up - way up.

Step Four: Scaling the System
Enter our biggest tool yet: a custom aluminum train track.

We welded it in-house, then designed a brush cart to ride it - a wheeled rig that could travel the width of seven panels at a time, holding our paintbrushes steady and gliding them across the surface with slow, consistent movement.

It was part painting. Part printing. Part choreography.

Each panel was engraved with a numbered grid, so our six-person crew could align the colors exactly. Four team members painted. Two refilled the bottles and then guided the sled. There was no room for re-dos.

We had one shot. It worked.

Step Five: Bringing the Layers to Life
With the panels painted and dry, it was time to carve.

Each one went though our CNC machine, where we cut precise scoops and curves to create a dimensional “swarm” effect - revealing the layered materials beneath: plywood, colored mdf, and acrylic.

The result? A painted landscape that doesn’t just sit on the wall - it moves with it. Light passes through carved forms. Depth changes as you walk by. It feels alive. This is where we currently are at.

What We Learned: Build the Tool to Make the Art
This project wasn’t just about what we made - it was about how we made it.

We didn’t start with a process. We created one. From concept sketches to custom-built tools, this was a collision of artistry, engineering, and experimentation. And it reminded us of something important: The best results don’t always come from following a path. Sometimes, you have to make the path.

Final Thoughts: Feeling over Formula
In a world full of automation and quick prints, this was something slower. Something stranger. Something hand done. 

It was texture. It was light. It was movement.

But most of all - it was a feeling. A reminder that design doesn’t just solve problems. It can create paths that freeform art can be born. When it’s done with care, creativity, and collaboration, it becomes something more.

It becomes memorable.