I've been painting for a long time, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that sometimes the best things happen when everything goes wrong.
On October 10, 2026, I had the opportunity to participate in Slammin Cans 2026 at Color Park in Pittsburgh. The event brought together ten artists for a day of live mural painting, street art, and a little friendly competition.
As a Pittsburgh artist and muralist, I've spent years exploring the space between order and chaos through bold color, texture, and movement. Most of my work involves acrylic painting, palette knives, and building layers of color and texture.
But this experience pushed me in a direction I hadn't anticipated.
I went into the event with a plan. A pretty elaborate one, actually.
I had spent weeks developing a concept featuring a punk-inspired Buddha sitting between two psychedelic frogs, surrounded by oversized flowers and a waterfall. I worked through multiple versions, thinking about color, composition, and how the painting would interact with the concrete wall.
I was excited to bring it to life.
Then I met the wall.
The concrete blocks were in much worse condition than I had anticipated. Missing corners, deep gaps, uneven surfaces, and openings throughout the structure. The more I looked at it, the more I realized that trying to force my original composition onto that surface was going to be a frustrating experience.
So I made a decision.
I threw out the plan.
Working With the Wall Instead of Against It
One of the biggest challenges of painting a mural is that the surface becomes part of the artwork.
Unlike painting on canvas in my Pittsburgh studio, working on an outdoor concrete wall introduces a whole different set of challenges. The texture, condition, dimensions, and surrounding environment all influence what you can create.
My original mural concept required a relatively continuous surface to create the illusion of depth. This wall wasn't going to cooperate.
Rather than force the design, I started working with the existing shapes and divisions of the concrete.
And something interesting happened when I stopped worrying about what I was supposed to paint.
I started experimenting.
Instead of trying to create a recognizable image, I began building an abstract composition using geometric shapes, bold colors, flowers, lines, and patterns. I let the existing concrete blocks influence the direction of the painting rather than treating them as obstacles.
The whole process became much more spontaneous.
My work has always existed somewhere between order and chaos. I tend to build paintings through layers of acrylic, palette knife work, texture, and instinct. Some pieces are controlled and minimal, while others are loud and energetic.
But this was different.
Working on that wall pushed me toward a more graphic, street-art-inspired approach. Strong outlines, overlapping shapes, contrasting colors, and a kind of organized visual chaos that I hadn't really explored in quite the same way before.
And I was having a blast.
There was something liberating about not knowing exactly where the painting was going. I wasn't trying to recreate a sketch or follow a predetermined composition. I was responding to what was happening in front of me.
One decision led to another. A shape suggested a color. A line created an opportunity for another pattern. Something that initially looked out of place became the starting point for something else.
I wasn't executing a painting anymore. I was discovering one.
Slammin Cans 2026: My Finished Mural and Painting Process
The Original Concept
The Concrete Wall
The Finished Mural
A Closer Look
Learning From the Artists Around Me
One of the things I enjoyed most about Slammin Cans was being surrounded by nine other artists, each approaching their work differently.
There's a lot to learn just by watching someone else paint.
Different techniques, different materials, different ways of solving problems. Some artists work methodically, while others attack a surface with incredible energy. Everyone brings their own experience and personality to the wall.
I picked up quite a few ideas throughout the day, and it reminded me how important it is to occasionally step outside your usual environment and work alongside other creative people.
Art can be a pretty solitary pursuit. Most of my time painting is spent alone in my studio, working through ideas at my own pace.
Being part of something like Slammin Cans changes that dynamic. There's conversation, encouragement, and a shared excitement about what everyone is creating.
It's a completely different kind of energy.
Taking Something New Back to My Pittsburgh Art Studio
Here's where the experience gets even more interesting for me.
After finishing the mural, I started thinking about how I could take some of what I'd discovered and apply it to my canvas paintings.
Remember that Buddha and those two frogs I originally planned to paint?
Well, they're not going away.
I've started reimagining that composition using the techniques and visual language I explored at Slammin Cans. The bold geometric patterns, heavy outlines, layered colors, and street-art influences are finding their way into a new version of the painting.
And I'm already exploring how that same approach might work with other subjects.
That's something I hadn't anticipated when I showed up Saturday morning.
I thought I was going to spend the day painting a mural.
Instead, I may have stumbled into a new direction for my work.
Looking back through my artwork archive, I can see how my approach has evolved over the years. Slammin Cans feels like another step in that evolution.
I'm not suggesting that everything I've done before is suddenly going to change. My approach to painting has developed over decades, and there's a lot about it that I still love.
But I also don't want to spend the next twenty years painting the same way I painted the last twenty.
Growth requires experimentation, and experimentation means being willing to make something that doesn't work.
Sometimes it also means abandoning something you were convinced would work.
What Slammin Cans Taught Me About Painting Murals
Painting a mural isn't simply taking a smaller painting and making it bigger.
Every wall presents its own challenges. The surface, scale, surroundings, and even the condition of the materials can influence the final artwork.
Slammin Cans reminded me that flexibility is just as important as having a strong concept.
Sometimes you have to change your approach, experiment with unfamiliar techniques, and trust your instincts.
For me, that's what makes creating public art interesting. You're not just making something to hang on a wall. You're creating something that becomes part of an environment, something people encounter as they move through their everyday lives.
Through my involvement with community art projects and murals throughout Pittsburgh, I've learned that the relationship between the artwork and its surroundings can be just as important as the painting itself.
And sometimes the wall has something to say about what belongs there.
The Best Part Wasn't Winning
I didn't win the competition, and I'm perfectly fine with that.
I got to spend the day painting, meet some talented artists, experiment with techniques I hadn't used before, and walk away with ideas I'm excited to explore.
That's a pretty successful Saturday in my book.
A huge thank you to Max Gonzalez (@goodboygems), Shiftworks (@derek_reese_art @shiftworkspgh), and Friends of the Riverfront (@friendsoftheriverfront) for organizing the event and creating an opportunity for artists to come together, experiment, and share their work.
I had a fantastic time and learned a lot.
Sometimes the Wrong Turn Is the Right Direction
I've been thinking about that original Buddha concept.
At the time, abandoning it felt like a setback.
Looking back, I'm glad it happened.
If the wall had been perfect, I probably would have painted exactly what I planned. It might have turned out beautifully, but I wouldn't have been pushed to try something different.
Instead, I walked away with a painting I never imagined making and a whole new set of possibilities to explore.
Sometimes the most interesting thing about creating art isn't what you make. It's what you discover about yourself while making it.
And sometimes all it takes is a really shitty wall.
Explore My Pittsburgh Murals and Public Art
Slammin Cans is one of several opportunities I've had to bring my artwork into public spaces throughout Pittsburgh.
From large-scale community projects to murals for local businesses, I enjoy creating artwork that becomes part of the environment around it.
You can explore more of my Pittsburgh murals and public art projects or contact me to discuss a mural for your business, organization, or community space.
You can also browse my available original paintings to see how these ideas continue to evolve on canvas.
About Scott Kowalski
Scott Kowalski is a Pittsburgh-based contemporary artist and muralist specializing in original acrylic paintings, abstract expressionism, and public art. His work combines bold color, texture, movement, and experimentation, often exploring the relationship between order and chaos.
In addition to creating original paintings and commissioned artwork, Scott participates in community art initiatives and large-scale creative projects throughout Pittsburgh.
Learn more about Scott Kowalski's artwork, murals, and creative projects.