Art is temporary if it imitates life

My friends and I were sitting around bored one day, years ago, and this boredom somehow led to the strange idea that we should paint a mural deep inside the culverts near the school. We didn't give it any thought. We just woke up one day, bought a bunch of candles, $40 worth of spray paint, and snuck down into the ground when no one was looking. Not sure how much the fumes from the spray paint contributed, but it was a jolly good time. The odd thing is that we knew it wouldn't last. It was a drainage tunnel which meant the water would eventually wash away all the dragons and nifty quotes and bizarre symbols we painted. I thought of that when I came across the much more interesting 337 Project.



I'm a fan of remodeling projects involving old buildings. My parents own a three-story building in downtown Maysville, Kentucky, and given enough time and money I'd have that place completely tricked out. It was built some time in the 1800s and is still solid, but let's face it, some buildings are destined for the wrecking ball no matter what. The old Oquirrh School, at 337 South 400 East in Salt Lake City, Utah, is such a place. It's scheduled for demolition in July to make way for Utah's first all-green, mixed-use loft-style condominiums. Rather than letting the building go quietly into the Good Night, officials turned it over to 144 local artists to have their way with it. The result: A 20,000 square foot canvas, with no inch left untouched (see slideshow above).

It's beautiful. It's temporary. Such is art if it imitates life.

I am so turning my own home over to volunteer artists if and when I ever get settled.

Check it out: 337 Project