There is no art in Appalachia. There is corruption though. Some of these suits are more crooked than a barrel of fishhooks. Unless you view what are, in fact, trinkets, or photographs of water running pastoral streams and dreams through the deep woods. Anyone can do those those things. That is only one story. Let’s switch out your eyes and replace them with digital sensors. The normal eye hides so much from us. Homo sapiens sapiens are essentially blind and walking crazy and lurching through the shadows. The gallery itself does have art, but there is no art in Appalachia that renders what you see as transformational. What you will see with the Tourist Eye will be two photographs of bears. Old postcards of bears. And an oil painting of a bear. What actually brings a visual voice to this part of America. The tourists can buy some plastic versions of Mickey Mouse in the general store. Knock offs. The McFaddens are cooking a pig tonight in the ground. Jack Daniels and sweating oak casks. Fiddledeedee. Southern Comfort knocks me on my ass. Sweet and a little mean. I do not eat meat. Because I do not eat meat. Of any kind. You’all don’t really know art. Like Southern cooking. I thought I was going to hate sweet potato pie. I love sweet potato pie. I now make my own in a woodstove. The oven is two hundred years old and it’s creaky. But every pie comes out differently. It’s not homogenized and scaled up to reach 593,102,798 trillion people by noon tomorrow. I make mine with %**-%3Moon&**@111Shine627. This stuff is more clear than water. There is a rumor that NASA wants to buy whatever is available. No one is that thirsty. There are a lot of artists who live up here, and I think most of them are prone to do what I do which is hide out from the Tourist Hell Called Town. The artists are all up in these hills, and I have given lessons in how to build a treehouse. The one caveat is the noise. My tree creaked and  groaned before I built the treehouse. Just from moving around, and every treehouse will talk to you about world events. Release the doves.