Once upon a time, on a slight incline just past Amelia Pond there sits (or used to sit) amid the tall grasses and shrubs sits the lonely Milk House. It has always been there. Keeping watch over the Amelia Pond and the surrounding landscapes. Where once people came to store milk, it then became a impromptu art gallery for the Mysterious Artist of Corning. It's roof was falling in and the floor was made of mud, but it we ours and our alone. Something to treasure! And treasure it we did...until the day that the Milk House no longer stood.
|Milk House in Pastel|
I am unfamiliar with the history of the Milk House, outside of the fact that I know it is a milk house. I just know that since I have been living in Corning, this rickety structure has been a special place. I often go up to Spencercrest for walks, or line rehearsals, writing, sketching, sometimes with friends, or most often to just to be alone, but always would I visit the little Milk House, even if it was muddy and i was wearing flats. There was a sense of forgotten peace. As with many dilapidated and abandoned places there is a draw to it.
My friend, Katie O'Herron is the first person to take me to the milk House (shout out time). I was marveled by the this random little house (for that what I originally thought it was). But standing in the center of the tiny house and looking up to see sky through the partially collapsed roof. And then there the random artwork on display, mostly of suns and moons, it was a sight to behold. Often, it seemed that the artist would switch out paintings for other ones, much like a standard gallery would do. I loved to see what was there each time I went up there. I took many pictures. I felt inspired. I felt at peace.
|Milk House circa 2009|
Not long ago, maybe a year one of the local papers did a lengthy article about the Milk House and the Mysterious Artist (I should try to find that article and post it). No one seemed to know the artist, and maybe they didn't want to know. I know now, after my last visit I still love not knowing, just knowing that someone enjoyed having the Milk House there and was inspired to make art and share with the world.
My last visit to Spencercrest yielded quite the surprised when I didn't see the little Milk House of the Hill, as I walked closer I relieved that the base was still there, but the Milk House was not. After the Tornadoes that ripped through the area and the rather windy Autumn and Winter, I guess I wasn't surprised that the Little Milk House didn't make it. I was pretty saddened by this. I could still see the path that the college made up to the house last year, and the worn entrance way. There wasn't much left, after the presumed clean up, some wood and shingles, and bit of the electrical pieces that were practically embedded into the ground. No sign of the painting. i do hope that they were saved and found a home.
I shall still make my regular pilgrimage to the Little Milk House on the Hill. Maybe I will be inspired to write a story or play about it.