Granddaddy Urkle
Last updated
Last updated
Granddaddy Urkle is a representation of all our grandfathers. Funny, serious, wise, goofy, spontaneous, lazy, proactive, and everything in-between. When he's not out in the fields of his Smoky Mountain home, or yapping the neighbors hearing aid off, you'll find Granddaddy Urkle out back in his barn. His own little asylum, filled with work benches, nursing tents, assorted tools scattered across the floor, light fixtures everywhere, and a bomb sound system that's probably playing his absolute favorite song, "The Joker" by Steve Miller Band.. Granddady Urkle was a great farmer in his day. Yielding some of the greatest cultivated crops the land has ever seen, ask him about all the awards he's won.... trust me, hell tell you ALL about them. As he grew older, he grew more wise, taking all of his experiences with him along the way. Now, he spends most of his days telling stories and tales of all the things he's been through, all the memories he has, people and places he's seen.. Most of which, seem to come out as more of a life lesson though, rather than just a story..
In fact, it was one of these very wise tales that inspired me to make this collection... I remember this day like it was yesterday....
I was sitting outside one early morning, contemplating life as all mid-late twenties rascals do.. Leaned up against a boulder listening to the sounds of a life-filled forest. Smells of morning dew flooded as the sun was just rising, barely visible through the dense fog of the Smoky Mountains. Granddaddy Urkle's old man senses must have been tingling... because out of nowhere, the back door busts open. I was in such a daze, I wasn't startled and I didn't turn back to look, but I can hear the loose wood creek with every step as he approaches the end of the patio. "I see you've found a nice perch!" he shouted across the yard - I didn't respond, just a very subtle head nod. I start to hear leaves crunch, and grass dragged across the bottom of his bare mountain feet as he makes his way over to me. Very gently places his hand on my shoulder and with his calm, caring voice says, "What's on your mind son?"
I take a deep breathe, and on my exhale I began to tell him everything. From not being happy at work, having to live check to check, driving a hooptie that barely starts, not having enough money for the things I wanted... I was kind of all over the place, but overall just not being where I wanted to be in life... Trying to explain that I'm an artist, I NEED to be creating things, expressing myself through my work, not working a dead end job to help somebody else's business grow... A full-heartfelt-emotion-filled-rant and I was left in a dead silence. Not a word was mentioned for at least one full minute - I swear even the birds stopped chirping. To the point that I broke my staring competition with the rocks just to look up and see if he had fallen asleep standing there, or walked away. Yet, as soon as I looked up to his old, scruffy, chiseled face sipping coffee. We made eye contact, and he said "Son, it's time you plant a seed... come."
As I've mentioned Granddaddy Urkle was a farmer for many, many years. He loved it, and it was his greatest passion. Possibly one of the greatest farmers to ever live. Most of his "old wise tales" come in form of farming puns, or weed puns, or other randomness old people blabber about. But how can this old man take everything I told him, and say absolutely nothing other than I need to come plant a seed.. THAT is going to help fix all this...? I said, "Granddaddy I know you love to farm... I get that it puts YOU into your own zone, but I'm not so sure I'll like it as much..." - Another long silence as we make our way through the garden.
The pungent earthy aroma of doja is flowing through the air and only gets stronger as we start to approach his shed. Just as we get to the doors I hear his radio still on... "I'm a smoker, I'm a joker, I'm midniight tokerr..." I look up to him "Seriously?? do you know any OTHER songs? Does that thing ever turn off??". He slides these massive barn doors open, and makes a b-line right to the back corner. "what...? It's a banger!" he says as he stumbles across his beautiful chaos of a shed. It's been years since I've been in here, but from what I can tell, it pretty much looks the same as it always had... Tools everywhere, random pots, with all varying sized plants starting to sprout, some larger ones over there, tents with various lights, and that oh-so-annoying faint clicking from the many timers that were running, and that DAMN song... I turn to ask Granddaddy a question, but all i see is him digging through what seems like thousands of different tiny drawers. His entire time rummaging, Granddaddy's preaching how some people are "lucky to just be born with the everything", and how "others need to work so hard and may never see the same results...". "AH!" he shouts, turns and walks over. "Some look at pot as disgusting, revolting, repulsive, the devil's lettuce... you name it, but this, to me, is art. I've grown the best buds with the best farmers, I've partnered with the best companies, I've tweaked and perfected my own craft. I understand your struggle as an artist, but son, art doesn't have to be drawn on paper..."
Before I could say anything in response he cuts himself off, reaches his arm out and says "here, have a look at this... That, was my first seed. My father gave that to me when I gave him the same talk you just gave me... Tell me, son. What do you see..?"
Being the smart-ass I am, I said "uh.. a weed seed..?" but as i began to look closer at it, more details started to appear. I never realized how... beautiful and unique a seed really is. I corrected myself - "A beautiful seed, there's little designs on here!".
"...son, art doesn't need to be drawn on paper."
Yes - he said. But that's all it will ever be.. a seed. That seed, though you may think its beautiful right now... has the potential to be so much more... That is a Purple Haze seed, that seed could have been a beautiful plant. It could have lived its life helping others, generating it's own income through the buds it produces... helping cancer patients as an alternative to chemo, ect. But instead, it will never more than what it currently is. I asked "is that because it's so old? If your father gave this to you when you were my age... then its at least 30+ years old now... right? Obviously THIS seed will never grow."
He smiles, and nods his head yes - "yes, it's old, older than you and your father actually.. however son, it's NEVER too late... This seed hasn't grown because it was never given the proper environment to do so.. This seed has never seen sunlight since the moment it's come into this shed. This seed has never been in soil, or had any water. Seeds need very few things to flourish, however without these few things, a seed will remain a seed forever. YOU son, are a seed. And right now, you don't have the proper environment to grow. You need to find your Sunlight, Your Soil, Water, and Love, only then you will flourish, and prosper beyond your wildest dreams. people look at life as if what were given is all we have... This seed was given nothing other than the ability to exist, just like us."
There are many stories from Granddaddy Urkle that I'll hopefully be able to share with you all, however this one always has, and always will be the main voice of my inspiration. That one little seed has flourished into pride, motivation, and determination that I hope to pass on to many others as well. With the many personalities Granddaddy Urkle portrays through out this art collection, I hope you're able to find a piece of you, or your granddaddy in some of them.