Railroad Wk #1

Harvest

All of the fields around Art Farm are being harvested. There seems now to be even more sky, and a feeling of being exposed around Art Farm. I am sitting in a soybean field recently harvested.

Hitchhikin

Look at us!!! After eating at Wendys, the only thing open in Central City, it was time to go back to Art Farm. The temperature dropped dramatically, it was cold, and we were ready for a nice ride home. We hitched for a few minutes before a cop drove up and said it was illegal to hitchhike in the state of Nebraska. We walked back to the corner gas station, stood around, asked a few folks filling up if they were heading south. No luck, decided to try again out on the road, and sure enough, a white Cadillac pulls up and it's Ken, a man I had met in the post office in Marquette, just the other day. He drove us directly back to Art Farm. Yee haw.

Central City

Five hours later we walk into Central City. We are tired and hungry. And proceed to look for a place to eat in the small town.

No Tracks

The tracks are not there. Beautiful piles of rusty metal scrap appear every few miles. All of the rails have been pulled out, leaving us an easy path to walk on. Aimee throws rocks at the metal, creating different acoustic sounds. The sounds were so unique and made me laugh.

Walk To Central City

Aimee, Shawn and I set out on a walk to Central City via rail road tracks. It takes 12 miles to get there.

Road Work #4

Horse Ramp

I have not shown you much of what I have been making, but this little tailless horse appeared the other day to walk on the 15 foot ramp I built with old barn lath.

Studio

I have two studios. One, I use to sand, cut, and assemble my wood and messy projects. It feels cool, emiting the colors of blues and greys, with the neon lights and cement floor. In the other one, I draw, read, write, and paint in. It feels warm, glowing with the color yellow with its wooden floors and regular lights. Amazing how you can really feel the difference betwen cement and wood spaces.

Marquette, Nebraska

This small town is the closest town to me. It is walking distance from Artfarm, a long walk. There is a post office, and a fire department, residential buildings, railroad tracks, basketball hoops, abandoned lots, lots for sale and a grain factory. I'll tell you more as I will attempt some walking field trips there in the next few days, with of course, my baskteball. My sense of the place when driving through it, lonely.

Marquette Water Tower

Farm Chores

Racooned proofed, and sheet rocked attic section. From doing this project I got a lot of ideas for using lath in my art projects. In order to put this up I had to climb behind it, to install, and only leave a small opening for me to escape, I did not panic.

Road Work #3

Road Work #2

Evening Chores

This is what I am working on every evening, tearing off the shingles of this old barn so we can get to the wood underneath and reuse. Tomorrow, will be a different chore. Shawn, Ed and I will go take apart a 15 by 18 foot silo and bring it back to the farm. I love this work, I love Nebraska.

Art Farm Crew

Here we are.

Hands

He was thrilled to know that I was from California, he smiled huge. I bought a wisk broom for my truck from him. Look at his hands.

Elba

This is a proud mother of four cowboy sons. I met her in the small town of Elba. She had just purchased this house. When folks walked in to look through her stuff she said everything is for sale except the sleeping man, and there he was rolled up in an electric blanket with his shoes on, not for sale.

The Nebraska Junk Jaunt

This is a classic example of a typical yard sale along the scenic highway during the junk jaunt. The two-hundred and twenty miles of garage sales of junk and antiques was exciting, inspiring and wonderfully exhausting and I would do it again in a heart beat. What was so fascinating was meeting all of the people and going off the beaten track to see the places where they lived. I spent most of my time filming, asking questions and talking to folks. Most of the folks I met were endearing, generous and full of enthusism to share their stories and their homes with me. I admit though sometimes I did not feel that from people and would just look around, film, and then leave without saying anything.

Basketball Court #3

This was the last court I shot my basketball at.