Boo John's Shed

11 x 14

Oil on Linen Board

Plein Air

This is the road that leads into Spruill Bros. Pasteurized Meats Farm (http://spruillbros.com) in Cooper Hill. After a walk around the farm with the owner, Taylor Spruill, it was too hot and late to set up and try and paint some of the animals who were still in the shade trying to evade the blazing late afternoon sun.

Once again, I got in the truck and drove out thinking that there would be no painting for the day, but looked in my rear view mirror and saw Boo White's equipment shed in front of his poultry houses. The sun was in a  hurry to go down at this point, and the temp had cooled quite a bit, so I got out and set up looking back toward's where I had driven out of.  Shadows dancing across the pasture into a wheat field with the warm setting sun light was too good to pass up.

This was my third painting there.  The first two were titled " Boo John's Truck " and " Snowed in. " Each of these paintings concluded with Boo John's brother, Coke,  slowly driving up and stopping right beside me while pressing the passenger side window button down, so he could begin his interrogation without getting out of the truck. As with most dirt path conversations around here, getting out of the truck is no option, especially when it's hot and the a/c is on high cool. Both of these times, his first question was, " What in the Hell is there to paint around here?" Not once did he wait for me to answer, nor did he look at the painting as the conversation had turned to farming or chickens by the time I could  get out a word.

It appeared that this time would be no exception, as I saw the white truck out of the corner of my eye inching down the path as I was scrapping my palette and putting my paints up.  As the white crew cab Ford approached, I noticed that Coke drove a little further forward this time. I immediately thought that he was probably just going to drive on after he was satisfied that it was just me painting again,  but he stopped a little ahead. By this time the back passenger window, perfectly even with me at this point, slowly started rolling down.  Evidently, Coke's electrical wiring was sizzled, and the only window that would  roll down was that one. I walked over to the window ready for the inquisition. Coke, again not having anything to with getting out his seat, nor even shifting his body one inch for that matter to interrogate me, did a complete Linda Blair Exorcist full neck spend and  looked straight at me without a shoulder moved, and hit me with it once again for the third time within a year - "What in the Hell is there to paint out here?"