It's a Wonderful Life

Well, folks, we've made it to the end. My favorite Christmas movie, possibly my favorite movie, and now my final Christmas Muralcle.

Some people think It's a Wonderful Life is a sad or depressing movie, and it is a little sad. But what I've always loved about it (especially being a type-A over-achieving millenial*) is the idea that "achievement" can come in small, private, personal ways. 

There's a real wonderful sort of beauty in achieving just by living your life, loving your family, believing in your neighbors, and caring for your community. George's dad says something in the movie that always touches me: 

"I feel that in a small way we are doing something important. Satisfying a fundamental urge. It's deep in the race for a man to want his own roof and walls and fireplace, and we're helping him get those things in our shabby little office."

Sorry, don't mind me. I'll just be in the corner quietly weeping. I just love this movie. I watch it every year and every year I discover something new about it that makes me think about my life, my career, my dreams. It makes me so happy, and I have always known, from the first day of this silly little project, that if I ever made it to the end, I would finish with It's a Wonderful Life.

Dave's first-view reaction: What? WHAT?! This is awesome!


*I mean, deciding to draw a mural a day until Christmas is something only a slightly crazy person would try to do

How beautiful and wonderful is Donna Reed?
I only fell more madly in love with her when news came out a few years ago
that she would send GIs mail during WWII (and kept the letters)

Jimmy! Jimmy Stewart!
There never has been and never will be anything on a celebrity's Twitter feed as lovely or moving
as this behind-the-scenes essay by Stewart, detailing what he felt and thought on the set

little Zuzu!
She was incredibly crazily hard to draw, all peachy pink and pale rose

it is!

One last note: It's a Wonderful Life ends with a lovely note from Clarance the angel to George. "Remember, George," it says, "no man is a failure who has friends."

I have been blessed to have such lovely, supportive, encouraging friends as I embarked on this very strange project. It has been wonderful to hear all your kind thoughts and exclamation points, and I'm very appreciative that none of you put into words (at least to my face) what I'm sure you were all thinking: this girl is batshit crazy. On long days when all I wanted was to go Jackson Pollock on my wall, I would think of you all and keep going. Thank you.

And to my sweet, patient husband: you dusted off the chalky fingerprints that seemed to settle on every surface in the house, you gently reminded me to eat dinner, you let me know when I had chalk on my face and never once got mad at me for spending several hours every day amusing myself with pastels (even when some of that chalk got on your dress shirt). You made me laugh with your reactions and diligently sat with me for yet another Christmas movie (every night). And you didn't make me watch the Jim Carrey version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. For all that and a lot more, I love you, and thank you.

Merry Christmas, everyone!