My neighborhood was like 'The Wonder Years.' We played until 10 o'clock at night. We used to tell scary stories. I was the one scaring them. We used to play football by this place called the Myer's House. It was a big, spooky house with the gables; we'd hang out there and scare each other. Richard Chizmar
The above quote might seem a little odd as well as the blog image, but hopefully I can enlighten and save your brain from running off the tracks!
I was visiting a farm auction site a couple of weeks ago and on that site, which included the usual out buildings, there was the "manor". When I squeezed through the jammed door I saw an example of a modern wildlife habitat. I suspect that every raccoon, skunk, field mouse and other critters have claimed this place as their "safe house", and it even had carpet....in places.
As I looked around my mind began to follow the quote above....who lived here, what was it like during an Iowa winter, what did the children do (chores of course), how far was the school and did they really have to walk 5 miles in the snow to get there? But my mind couldn't stop there and continued with questions, answers, forgotten dreams and aspirations. I think this comes with a certain amount of age and the farther we get from our own youth the better the view becomes. I hope that is the case with my children as they really did have to do chores while the snow fell and grew up knowing that animal lives depended on them for food, water, warmth and some sort of petting, etc.
In this case, my mind and my words often use the "good ol' days" as a respite from todays hectic, noisy, and discouraging background. Yes, at times I love the internet, but then there are times that living far away in a forest seems much more pleasurable. If that wish came true and such devices as the internet and computer were unavailable, then I believe my photography would suffer. Even if I was a film photographer (don't want to go back to that era) I wouldn't want the chore of carrying water to the cabin to mix up the solutions needed to develop film and print. Been there, done that!
With all this going through my small brain and the morning light starting to do its beautiful thing, this "rustic" interior started to be attractive as a story subject. I thought about how many times the children ran out that door to play, or how many evening the farmer husband or wife went out to check the restless cow about to calf. Or maybe a peek out the door during a storm with the wonder and anxiety of the safety of the crops or livestock. I see them dressed in there Sunday best leaving for Easter services with the children, either moaning or giggling, bringing up the rear.
It doesn't take me much to get into this dialogue when I approach a barn, a farmhouse or even a corn crib. The fact is I've worked, lived, or slept in any of them for one reason or another. As I've gotten older I've learned that all of my life experiences have shaped the kind of artist I have become. It wasn't long ago that I regretted some of my experiences, but now I see their value and the fact that God led me through all of them.
Thanks for visiting and cherish those memories as they are the fabric that stitch the pieces together.
Other sites where you can find my work:
Summer Wind Gallery, Arnolds Park, Iowa http://www.summerwindgallery.com