One of the reasons I’m attracted to placing my cowboy and indian icon art pieces in old abandoned homes is because of stories I’ve heard from my patients. Most of the patients I have in home health and hospice are elderly. When they are reminiscing, while I visit by their bedside, childhood homes are a frequent topic. Some of the tales of the past will include their experience of returning to the rural home they grew up in. The majority of these folks will share how sad they felt when they visited an abandoned rural home of their childhood. The placement of my art pieces (made from children’s toys) in abandoned houses gives new life, hopefully, to childhood abodes that are no longer useful to anyone else.
The Stewart Family & Community Education building on Ft. Grant road came to mind.
When I walked through the tall grasses around the building, I came across a fallen, wooden sign with peeling paint which read, "4 H." The back door was wide open. Once inside, I noticed the front room - of the two room abode - had books laying on the floor.
The books were filthy so I decided not to examine any of them. It was obvious that this building once served to educate the local, young whipper- snappers.
All that was left in the back room was a large, old, white kitchen sink which had two sets of drawers underneath it. Standing next to it, was a small, unpainted, wooden table. Upon opening one of the drawers under the sink, I found nothing.
I placed, photographed and documented #69 on the level portion of the sink which appeared to be for food preparation. I exited out the back door and slowly walked to my car. I hoped to find other refuse amongst the tall grasses which might give me a clue or identification of the folks who once came here outside of the Stewarts. I arrived to my car and had found nothing else.
While I sat in the car and started up my engine, a feeling of peace came over me. Then came the satisfaction of knowing that I got to pay tribute to an old, wooden building which was once the center of learning and companionship to rural children who were now grown-up and reminiscing back to a time when they gathered there for companionship and to hone their agricultural skills. A time when someone prepared snacks for them on that kitchen sink. A time when they looked ahead to a life of discovery and adventure. Now those memories are faint and illness may be dominating their lives. The memories of the past now soothes the hints of pain associated with movements of their aging bodies.
Thank goodness for the blessing of our memories - we are forever young.
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