The Marigold Mural Project: A Sedona Community Tradition for Dia de los Muertos

Every year, I spend a good portion of my life surrounded by paint. I teach people who have never held a paintbrush before, create my own artwork, lead workshops, and watch students discover that they are far more creative than they thought they were.

Yet out of everything I do, there is one project I look forward to more than any other.

The Marigold Mural Project at Tlaquepaque Arts & Shopping Village is my favorite project of the year.

Part of what makes it so meaningful is that, although I am the artist who begins the mural, it never truly belongs to me. I create the foundation, establish the imagery, and leave large areas intentionally open. Then I hand the mural over to the community.

That is when it becomes something I could never create alone.

For several days each fall, a 26-foot-long wall in the heart of Tlaquepaque becomes a gathering place for Sedona residents, visitors, families, children, and people who have returned year after year. One by one, they pick up brushes and add the names, memories, symbols, and stories of people and animals they have loved.

At first, there is open space surrounding my artwork. Then a name appears. Someone paints a heart beside it. Another person adds a flower. A family paints a small tribute together. Someone carefully creates a paw print for a dog they still miss. Dates, nicknames, little illustrations, handwritten messages, and bursts of unexpected color gradually spread across the wall.

By the end of the project, hundreds of individual memories have become one enormous piece of community artwork.

That transformation is the magic of the Marigold Mural Project.

A Sedona Tradition That Began With an Invitation

The Marigold Mural Project began in 2012 as part of Tlaquepaque's Día de los Muertos celebration. The original idea was wonderfully simple: create a large piece of public art, then invite the community to help complete it by painting tributes to people and animals they wanted to remember.

For that first mural, I painted a marigold garland around a huge 26-foot-wide canvas. Once the foundation was ready, the paints and brushes came out and Sedona residents and visitors began adding their own contributions.

What happened next turned an art project into something much larger.

People painted, but they also talked. They shared stories about parents, partners, grandparents, friends, children, pets, and people who had influenced their lives. Some arrived knowing exactly what they wanted to add. Others seemed to discover their contribution only after they were standing in front of the mural with a brush in their hand.

The project resonated immediately with the community, and over the years, something beautiful began happening: people came back.

Families returned. Sedona locals returned. Visitors who had participated during an earlier trip returned to add another name or another memory. Children who had once painted alongside their parents came back again. People began recognizing the project not simply as something to see during Día de los Muertos, but as something they could participate in and return to.

That distinction is important to me.

Sedona has a rich creative community, and there are wonderful galleries and pieces of public art throughout the area. The Marigold Mural offers a different kind of experience. You are not standing at a distance observing someone else's finished artwork.

You are invited into it.

Tlaquepaque Is Part of the Story

It is difficult for me to imagine the Marigold Mural happening anywhere other than Tlaquepaque Arts & Shopping Village.

Tlaquepaque has been part of Sedona's cultural landscape for decades, and its winding cobblestone paths, fountains, archways, intimate courtyards, stone buildings, galleries, gardens, and gathering spaces create an atmosphere unlike anywhere else in town.

During Día de los Muertos, the village becomes even more extraordinary.

Colorful papel picado moves overhead. Ofrendas and altars appear throughout the property. Flowers, large-scale installations, artwork, music, and traditional dance fill the courtyards and walkways. People wander slowly through the village, sometimes following music into one courtyard and then discovering another piece of artwork tucked beneath an archway.

The Marigold Mural becomes part of that larger experience.

Located along Calle Independencia, the wall naturally begins attracting people as they move through Tlaquepaque. Some visitors arrive specifically because they know about the mural and have already decided whom they want to honor. Others are simply exploring the Día de los Muertos celebration when they notice people painting and wander over to see what is happening.

Sometimes they watch for a while.

Then they pick up a brush.

There is something about seeing hundreds of ordinary people contributing to a public artwork that makes participation feel possible. You do not need to understand art. You do not need to know how to paint. You do not even need to have planned on participating that day.

You only need someone you want to remember.

A Wall Filled With Individual Lives

Before the public arrives, I create the central artwork for that year's mural. Each design is different, and over the years I have incorporated marigolds, sugar skulls, figures, animals, a Tree of Life, flowers, and other imagery connected with remembrance, life, love, and Día de los Muertos.

But I deliberately leave much of the mural open.

That space belongs to everyone else.

Once the project begins, anyone can walk up, choose a brush, and add something in memory of someone who has died. It might be the name of a mother or father, a grandparent, sibling, partner, child, friend, teacher, mentor, or beloved animal who was very much part of the family.

Some people simply paint a name. Others add a favorite flower, a heart, a paw print, a small portrait, a symbol, a date, a phrase, or an image connected to a private memory.

There is no correct way to participate because there is no correct way to remember someone.

That is also why you absolutely do not need to consider yourself an artist.

The Marigold Mural is not a painting competition, and it is not about technical ability. No one is standing back evaluating brushwork or wondering whether a heart is symmetrical enough. I am there throughout the project and can help when someone wants guidance, but perfection has never been the point.

The act of making the mark is what matters.

Watching the Mural Change

One of my favorite parts of the entire project is watching the mural evolve.

At the beginning, my central artwork is surrounded by large stretches of open space. There is room everywhere, and it is impossible to imagine exactly how the finished mural will look.

Then the first contributions begin appearing.

A woman paints her mother's name. A child adds something for a grandparent. Someone creates a colorful little tribute to their dog. A couple stands together discussing what they want to write before finally deciding. Another person quietly holds a brush for several moments before touching it to the wall.

The mural begins filling slowly, and then almost all at once.

Someone paints beside a contribution made that morning. Another person fills the space beneath theirs. Separate paintings begin overlapping visually even though the people who made them may never have met. Colors repeat unintentionally. Flowers grow beside names. Hearts collect in corners. Small paintings begin connecting with larger ones.

Hour by hour, the wall becomes more layered and more human.

By the final day, nearly every available space has been touched by someone.

When you stand close to the finished mural, you see individual lives. You notice names, handwriting, dates, animals, flowers, and personal messages.

When you step farther away, something changes.

You see community.

No single person could have created what is on that wall. The finished artwork only exists because hundreds of people showed up and contributed one small piece of themselves.

A Tradition People Return To

Over the years, one of the things that has moved me most is watching people make the Marigold Mural part of their own traditions.

I recognize returning participants now, and they recognize me. Someone will walk over and tell me about the person they painted for the previous year. Another person will bring a friend or family member who has never participated before. Some people have added something to the mural year after year.

Tlaquepaque also displays previous Marigold Murals during the celebration, which has created another ritual I love watching.

People search for their earlier contributions.

They walk slowly along the older murals, scanning the thousands of names, drawings, and messages. Sometimes they search for several minutes before suddenly stopping.

"There it is."

For a moment, the rest of the festival seems to disappear.

They have found Mom.

Or Dad.

Their husband.

Their sister.

Their friend.

Their dog.

Their person.

An older mural becomes a little time capsule, preserving a moment when they stood in the same place years earlier and decided to make that particular mark.

Then many of those same people walk over to the current mural, pick up another brush, and continue the story.

You can learn more about the history of the project and see photographs from previous years on my Marigold Mural Project page.

Where Grief and Joy Share the Same Wall

Because the Marigold Mural honors people who have died, someone encountering the project for the first time might imagine it as a very somber experience.

There are certainly quiet moments, and there is grief on the wall.

But there is also an extraordinary amount of joy.

People tell funny stories while they paint. They write nicknames that make family members laugh. Children cover sections of the mural in bright color. People paint flowers, hearts, birds, paw prints, and little symbols whose meanings may only be understood by one family.

Strangers compliment one another's contributions. Dogs wander past with their people. Music from another Tlaquepaque courtyard drifts down Calle Independencia while someone carefully paints the name of a person they have been missing for years.

The emotions are allowed to exist beside one another.

That is one of the things I find so beautiful about Día de los Muertos. Remembering someone who has died does not require us to remember only their death. We can remember how they laughed, what they loved, the ridiculous things they did, the places they took us, the lessons they taught us, and how our own lives changed because they were part of them.

The mural may contain loss, but when I look at the finished wall, what I see most is love.

What Community Art Can Do

Most of the time, when I create a painting, I am responsible for making the artistic decisions. I choose the colors, composition, imagery, and moment when the piece feels complete.

The Marigold Mural requires something very different from me.

I have to begin the artwork and then let it go.

Someone may place a giant purple heart next to something I spent hours painting. A five-year-old might add a bright orange shape in a place I never would have chosen. Someone may paint an enormous name. Another contribution may overlap an earlier one.

And that is exactly how it should be.

The mural becomes powerful because no one controls the finished result.

Community art allows us to create something none of us owns individually. Every person's contribution matters, but no single contribution is responsible for carrying the whole artwork.

We build it together.

That feels particularly appropriate in Sedona, where creativity is woven so deeply into the identity of the community. Artists, craftspeople, musicians, writers, teachers, performers, and people who simply enjoy making things all contribute to the creative character of this town.

The Marigold Mural takes that idea and makes it visible.

For a few days each year, you can actually watch a community appear on a wall.

Día de los Muertos at Tlaquepaque

The Marigold Mural takes place alongside one of Tlaquepaque's most vibrant annual traditions, its Día de los Muertos celebration.

Throughout the village, visitors encounter traditional ofrendas, papel picado, artwork, cultural installations, music, dance, flowers, food, and gathering spaces filled with families and visitors exploring together.

That larger celebration gives the mural its context.

Día de los Muertos is centered not simply on death, but on remembrance and the continuing place our loved ones hold in our lives. It gives people permission to say their names again, share stories about them, laugh about them, create something for them, and bring their memory into a community space.

The Marigold Mural offers one very tangible way to participate in that tradition.

You might spend part of the afternoon wandering through Tlaquepaque, listening to music and exploring the altars and installations. Then, when you reach Calle Independencia, you can stop for a few minutes, pick up a brush, and add someone you love to the mural.

Those few minutes may become the part of the day you remember most.

You can find current event information through Tlaquepaque's Marigold Mural Project page and its Día de los Muertos celebration page.

The 2026 Marigold Mural Project in Sedona

The 2026 Marigold Mural Project will return to Tlaquepaque Arts & Shopping Village in Sedona from Thursday, October 29 through Saturday, October 31, from 11:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. along Calle Independencia.

The mural will also continue during Tlaquepaque's Día de los Muertos celebration on Sunday, November 1, 2026, from 11:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.

Paints and brushes are provided, and participation in the community mural is free.

Previous Marigold Murals will also be displayed during the celebration, so I encourage you to spend a little time exploring them. You will see years of names, paintings, memories, pets, families, stories, and tiny pieces of Sedona history layered across those walls.

Then come find the current mural.

Come Add Someone You Love

You do not have to arrive knowing exactly what you are going to paint.

You do not have to consider yourself creative, and you certainly do not need to call yourself an artist.

Walk through Tlaquepaque for a while. Look at the old murals. Read a few names. Notice the drawings people have left behind and imagine the stories connected with them.

Then think about someone who has mattered in your life.

Maybe you already know exactly whose name you would paint. Maybe someone comes to mind only after you are standing in front of the wall.

Either way, pick up a brush.

Paint their name. Add their favorite flower. Make a heart. Paint a paw print. Write a few words. Tell the person beside you a story about them if you feel like sharing it.

Then step back and look at what is happening around you.

Your contribution becomes part of the painting beside it. That painting joins another person's memory. Someone you have never met adds something a few inches away.

Slowly, hundreds of individual lives become connected through one enormous piece of artwork.

After all these years, that is still why the Marigold Mural Project remains my favorite project of the year.

I begin every mural knowing what I am going to paint, but I never know what the finished artwork will look like.

I cannot know.

Because I do not finish it.

Sedona does.

The visitors do. The families do. The children do. The people returning for their fifth or tenth mural do. The person who wandered through Tlaquepaque without knowing the project existed until five minutes earlier does.

Every person who picks up a brush adds another memory, another story, and another life to the wall.

For a few days in the courtyards of Tlaquepaque, hundreds of people create something together that none of us could create alone.

That is the Marigold Mural Project.

And if you are in Sedona this fall, I hope you will come be part of it.

Explore the Marigold Mural Project, its history, and previous murals at Lovejoy Creations.