The Country Shed

The Country Shed
Originally uploaded by []Aaroneous Monk[]

Some time in the mid 90’s the so-called “bypass” in Marion Indiana was being widened to accommodate a growing amount of traffic. It was originally built to bypass the downtown area which had grown stagnant and made getting from A to B in a timely manner difficult. Over time it began to attract a multitude of chain businesses. With this kind of proliferation came increased traffic and traffic lights which eventually made it a not very efficient way to get from A to B. A casualty of this widening was a small unassuming brick building known as "The Country Shed”.

It was here that Indiana Wesleyan University students could experience some local-color-realism by breathing in substantial amounts of second hand smoke and eating off of greasy plates while sitting conspicuously isolated from the usual patrons. Kevin grew up in Marion and had befriended many of the unseemly types that frequented the Shed. My impression from the few opportunities I got to hang out with Kevin and the Shed regulars was that they didn’t exactly know what to make of him, but found him strangely compelling and over time even came to love him. At some point Kevin convinced three of these folks, a woman and two men, to allow him to create a painting of them sitting around a table talking and smoking.

I can think of few better expressions of letting someone know they are precious and unique than spending the time and effort to capture them in a fine art piece. And the fact they sat there for such a long time while Kevin worked at his canvas, feeling somewhat conspicuous or at least a little silly as they must have, said a lot about the reciprocal nature of what was being shared.

Before the painting could be finished the Country Shed was closed in order to be torn down for the bypass expansion. Kevin was able to convince the owner to loan him the table and chairs along with glasses, salt & pepper shaker, sugar dispenser, and ash tray. He had them set up in the middle of his small studio apartment so he could invite the three former patrons over to talk, smoke, and joke while he painted. The one man I remember meeting at Kevin’s apartment was likely in his upper 50’s with greasy combed back hair, beard, and a penchant for chain-smoking. He reminded me a lot of the Vietnam vets I would later go on to meet and treat at a Behavioral Health Clinic in Washington DC.

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Kevin was a “fool” in the sense that Prince Mishkin was an “idiot” in Dostoyevsky’s “The Idiot”. His straight forward naiveté in loving and accepting others unconditionally was likely incomprehensible to many who only knew calculation, mistrust, and hurt in their own hearts and lives. Now that Kevin is gone I wonder if there are those who now say “didn’t our hearts burn while we were with him?” And by those less gracious, “he eats with publicans and sinners.” May his memory be eternal.