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| Beer Can House: Houston, Texas |
The rush of wind blows through my long, wavy hair and tickles my cheek. As it departs me and continues on it's journey I hear "jingle, jangle, jangle, jingle"; the sounds of a thousand wind chimes in the distance. I follow the wind as it pulls me through a quaint neighborhood. The wonderful sounds of a metallic orchestra seems to be getting closer by every step. Finally the wind gusts away and leaves me standing in front of a home that welcomed the sunshine and reflected the warm glow off it's surfaces to the world around us. A sense of tranquility sweeps through me as the musical notes glide through the air from the metallic wind chimes that surrounds the structure. Almost everything in sight is cleverly and creatively done in a metallic medium. Adorning the outer walls was rectangles carefully cut out of aluminum cans. The fence is crafted with beer cans, beer bottles, coke cans, and other various items. Majestically draping the edges of the roof are beer can tops strung out dangling on lines. As I walk towards the backyard I become aware of the massive amount of marbles entombed in a concrete walkway. I have never seen this many marbles in one location before. Around the corner is a small clever lemon tree fashioned from metal and removable lemon juice bottles. I step into the home and strangely enough it appears as an average home turned into a museum. Although there is no furniture, there is wall to wall photographs documenting the owners life on this property. The floor is tiled with left over railroad car flooring; handcrafted each piece layered in a custom pattern. One room was full of tools the owner held and used to craft every inch of the exterior of the home. I leave through the backdoor and begin walking towards the front. I hear a whisper chiming in the wind. An old man's voice asking "Can you make it past the black step?" "If so anything can be possible" I heard as I walked up to a yellow ladder cemented in place; at the top is the word "Amen". The voice carried past me and chuckled "Beyond that black step is your adventure to your own Amen." I cant help but agree; everyone has something in life that hinders them from reaching a goal, they only need to decide to get beyond the "black step". Once again the wind rustles up and floats through my hair, I feel the warm glow reflected off the metal, and hear the musical notes dance around me from the beer can tops. This was his Amen; his tin man paradise he left behind for us to enjoy.
