Sharing a Dream

There is a small town cuddled up to a cold mountain river, surrounded by the gateway hills to the Blues.

Back when we all celebrated Y2K, the town boasted a population of about 1,200 people. Since then it has become a bedroom community to our somewhat larger town and sharing the growing pains of the valley.

Homes and property are still more affordable there and twenty miles is not very far to drive, especially for someone coming from a large metropolitan area.

Those people from the big cities have been arriving and buying. They are finding an idyllic place where their dollars go father, peace and quiet are the norm, and they break away from the corporate handcuffs.

The hubby offered to take me "up" there to a new art gallery that one of the owners had invited him to visit. She and her husband, from the Los Angeles area, bought attached buildings on the "main" street of town. (I think the downtown area extends a whole five blocks.) They are both artists in different medium.

We parked and walked into a large spacious room that was nearly empty except for a few curiously intriguing art forms on the wall and one piece scattered on the floor.

An articulate and uptown thirty-something woman greeted us, as did her huge dog. They rescued the dog half-starved with bleeding paws along one of the state highways. She is going to be the gallery dog. She jumped up on me as do most dogs. If you've read previous posts you'll know that dogs like to get up close and personal with me.

In spite of it's clumsy puppy actions, the dog purposely avoided an unusual work of art that lay on the floor. In memory of her grandfather, the showcased artist had cut pieces from his favorite tree into hundreds of small round buttons with exceptional grain which were polished to a high sheen. They lay in a round heap that may or may not have been by design.

The couple is ambitious and plans to add a small restaurant.

While walking back to our car we noticed the building to the north. It said "Livery Stable Mall." We were there, why not check it out, too. We walked into an entirely different world.

Built in the early 1800's, its original purpose was combination Livery Stable and Blacksmith. The buildings function and appearance had changed through the many years. The new owner hoped to restore it.

Inside, recreated stalls displayed the work of independent artists and antique dealers. There was no wall space or floor space left empty. I had to turn "skinny" to move through the aisles.

The proprietor was, I'm certain, born and raised in this mountain valley. Years of hard outdoor work and maybe cigarettes had etched her face and left her voice raspy. She was what I call a WYSIWYG. (What you see is what you get.)

"Rumor has it that the upstairs was a brothel," she offered this tidbit and captured my imagination. "And, I believe it after seeing the #!#-awful wall paper up there."

There weren't any stairs, so it was not to be seen this day by me. There are, however, plans to open the second floor to the curious in the future.

We spent time but no money, then headed for home. As we drove through the frozen hills of rolling wheat stubble, I contemplated the two women and their business and personal styles. In spite of such apparent differences, I realized they were still much more alike than they appeared.

They share the pursuit of a dream. I hope they catch it.