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Folk artist Don Cochran's Art Gallery
Paintings, sculptured high relief murals, backdrops, folk art, fine art, landscapes, waterfalls, wall murals on canvas and other paintings by Georgia's Folk and Master Scenic Artist Don Cochran for church, business and home.
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As quick as they appeared they disappeared. They left nothing but a few broken down corn stalks and two big holes in the ground where the elephants were tied up. They tried to get me to go with them, but after seeing them a week I wanted no part of it. It was cold that winter sleeping in that old car. I had to build a fire every morning to thaw the water out so I could wash my face and hands. It was after Christmas and we had run out of produce. Mr. Thompson would come down from Macon about every two weeks and restock the fruit stand. But it had been about a month and a half since we had seen him. His wife said he fell off the wagon. I knew about that. My daddy had a drinking problem. I had seen him fall off the wagon a few times.
With nothing to sell and running out of money. I knew I had to do something so I could eat. Mr. Frits, at the little restaurant where I ate every night, told me he'd feed me and give me some tobacco if I would wash the dishes for them. I accepted. It was a happy day when my older brother walked into that little restaurant. He was there to take me home. He had brought his wife with him, along with Mother, another brother and their little baby. I had to ride on the back of the truck. It was cold and it was bumpy. I had a blanket over me blowing in the wind. But a team of horses could not have pulled me off the back of that truck. I was going home!
My Mother and my brothers had moved from the country to the middle of Atlanta into the Capital Home's. I was introduced to the projects and the city life. They told me I was going to have to go back to school and that I wasn't old enough to quit. So back-to-school I went at the age of 15 and in the fifth grade. Boy, was I out of place. But after a couple of months they changed their minds. They sent me to a counselor somewhere downtown to talk about my future. The counselor asked me, " what do you want to be?". I told him, "an artist". He asked me," do you have any of your work?". I said," no". He said," boy, you better forget about that art and get you a real job".
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