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A crazy idea?

It was a crazy idea, but a crazy idea born out of desperation to do something about our aging, crumbling, eyesore of a former hotel, former hardware store building.


Every day I walked by the cracked, dirty, hand lettered plate glass windows. Every day I wondered when someone was going to finish the job of breaking them out or when a storm would come along and send a branch through the four windows that still had their glass – mostly.


It was a crazy idea, but I could see in my mind’s eye something that we could at least not be ashamed of.


 Something that would cover the eyesore and bring a smile to my face (selfishly) as I walk by them every day.


My husband is an artist – in words, with a pencil drawing, and now I know with a paintbrush. From my rudimentary idea, he created bright sunny flowers on sheets of plywood. 


With the help of two friends – Jarrin Rudd and Michael Bugg, we carried them out of the back conference room – his temporary studio – and mounted them over the windows.


He was so inspired he even wrote a poem to celebrate the “Rural Renaissance Art”. (see companion piece of that name)


We may ever be as poor as two country mice, but as long as he can wield a paintbrush, we have color and light and flowers. 


Envy me. I am the luckiest of wives.

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