Once a necessity of every American home, the outhouse now belongs to a fading past, a time when life was more peaceful and less complicated.

The outhouse served but one purpose in life.  Yet one can believe that more creative thoughts and future plans were conceived in this one small building than in any other building of its time.  To a carefree boy, it was a place to sit and dream of new adventures.  To a young girl looking at ready-made dresses in a mail order catalog, it was a place to wish and to imagine.  To a housewife it was the only place where she could devote her full attention to the task at hand and not be doing three other things at the same time.  To a farmer it was a shady spot to rest on a sun-drenched day.

An outhouse was one of the few places in life where status didn't count.  No amount of paint or decoration could disguise its basic function nor its intended use by all who entered.  An outhouse was the great humbler of society, a place where everyone sat as equals and no one was better served than any other.

It's use required no special training, no particular skill or expertise, no athletic ability or scholarly aptitude.  It was no respecter of age, gender, race or financial worth.  It had few moving parts and could operate for decades with minimal maintenance.  It consumed no fuel, emitted no hazardous pollutants, presented no threat to endangered species, and had no impact on the environment beyond the first ten yards.  It was, without a doubt, the most benign of all man-made structures.

So, when one finds art in an outhouse, one knows immediately that it isn't going to be one of those fancy places.  There are no pretentions about what it is and no apologies for what it is not: just simple art in a simple building.

Enjoy your visit.  If you like the pictures I'd like to know; otherwise, don't bother.  Thanks for stopping by.

Don

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