Coming of age in rural Missouri I developed a love of gourds as a child. In my grandmothers house sat a gourd of gargantuan proportion, it always amazed me that it had once been vegetation out in the field and now, wooden like and painted, it had taken up residency in her livingroom. If you picked it up or bumped it it reminded you that the dried seeds were still intact. Over the last 10 years I have grown them, bought them, cured them, scrubbed them, stained, painted, cut, scraped, burned, braided and named them. We have used them as gifts, donated them for fundraisers, wholesaled to home decor shops and finally started offering them to the public in 2007. We attend annual art and craft shows and an occasional farmers market. Every gourd has a story, no two are the same. I love the individual flaws in them all, sometimes the most scarred piece becomes my favorite production. We are always looking for arts and crafts shows, shops for consigning and wholesale opportunities to showcase this natural beauty.
