P. R. Miller– Don’t Let Him Be Misunderstood

Butler County Pennsylvania has been acknowledged as an area of the United States having one of the highest incidences of brain cancer. P. R. Miller grew up in this part of the country, and he vividly remembers the Calorie Chemical Company burning their waste products every Friday evening. Times were different then; there were no EPA regulations, no means to tell a large business to stop dumping chemicals into the air and water. As a result, a chemical company that was in the middle of an area comprised of dairy farms lit up the evening skies like fireworks, and the results of this morbid show took their toll on the population. P. R. is a victim of this time, having been through the trauma of brain surgery and the resultant chemotherapy that goes with it. During this time, he had a near-death experience. “A voice told me, go back- your work is not done,” P.R. tells me. He asked the voice, “well what is my job?” An epiphany came from this time in his life. “That is why we are here- to find out what we are supposed to be doing! I’m the clean up man- and I’m good at it.”

Don’t let the look fool you when it comes to P.R. Miller. Since we are a nation of sound bites and instant gratification, one tends to look in a newspaper, see a man in glasses and dirty clothes and say, “he can’t be anything”. Miller has a degree in art education from the University of Akron (“earned on the back of a garbage truck”), he has been an artist in residence at Norton Public Schools, and has studied abroad in Norway. But P.R’s journey may have never gotten out of Butler County, had he not had a mother who was determined to see him excel. “In second grade, they told my mother I would have to leave school because I was mentally retarded- and that day changed her life.” After a battery of tests, it was determined that P.R. simply needed glasses, but the whole experience of how her son had been treated gave her the impetus to finish her high school degree, her undergraduate and master’s degrees. She eventually became a local college trustee and an elementary school teacher. The whole experience of his childhood has come full circle in P.R.’s life. He was recently selected to judge an art show at Cedar Elementary School in Canton. After viewing all the art, a winner was selected, and the principal informed Miller that the student chosen was a member of the special education class. “The boy wasn’t retarded,” Miller notes, “he was shackled by the dumbing down of our society.” Miller took the student aside, and told him to be patient- “someday the world will catch up with you.” Perhaps the world is finally catching up with P.R. Miller.

I suppose I always thought that art, once obtained by a museum, was catalogued and permanently kept forever. Not so. Take the dilemma the McKinley Museum had when found that a collection of industrial art by Myron Nixon no longer fit “within the collection plan” of the Museum. P.R. was contacted, and subsequently brought the sculptures and mixed media items to Frogtown Flower Farm, where he gave them a new display area- the Myron Nixon Memorial Garden. It seems most appropriate that Miller gave these items a new home. For years, he had been the person who wrote the final chapter on industrial projects, being head of a demolition company that brought down many of the old rubber plant buildings in Akron. “I had forty people working for me at one time,” he tells me, “but my tumor put my life into perspective. I learned to open my head- to learn and observe. There’s no need to drive a big new car every year. There’s no need to have a bunch of fancy clothes. We have become a nation of consumerist pigs. We’ve been sold a bill of goods that tells us that we need to wear one hundred dollar Nikes made by child labor in Vietnam for twelve cents an hour. The rich get richer. How much is enough?”

P.R. Miller’s life at Frogtown Flower Farm began nine years ago. “When I came here, this home was completely uninhabitable. It had been on the market for six months, and the realtor thought himself extremely lucky to find two idiots to buy such a dump. And that’s why I bought it- because it was a dump. I wanted the experience of living in a house as I revitalized it.” His main purpose of coming to Frogtown, located near the Stark/Summit County line in Canal Fulton, was to learn how to restore a house while living in it. All the work that has turned the property into a beautiful home and studio has been via his hands. As we sat in his living room holding the interview, he informed me that where I sat had once been nothing more than a leaky porch, with the boards rotted and bug infested. He has kept a photo album documenting the metamorphosis of the property from “a dump” to a viable workspace and homestead. He’s poured 170 yards of concrete to replace leaky floors and reinforce building that were ready to topple over. All this with very little new material, and very little money.

As P.R. and I walked through the grounds, I began to see the property not as buildings and materials, but rather as a piece of art in progress. Materials ranging from large pieces of scrap metal to oddly shaped plastic forms were all about the place. I could see how some people may think upon glancing that it’s nothing more than a heap of abandoned material, better taken to the dump. However, I again realize that is the thinking of a society that reacts without thinking, which makes decisions without listening. P.R. Miller has a plan for each piece of material that has been discarded by others. Instead of taking the items to a dump to perhaps pollute someone’s water table or well, he recycles the “junk” into viable art. As one comes up the road to his house, he is greeted by bugs, cows and flowers, all made from recycled material. The Myron Nixon Memorial Garden is entered via an archway recycled from large pieces of scrap metal, and upon entering the studio, I saw all sorts of kilns, welders, and other tools to transform what the untrained eye considers junk into art.

Obviously, the process takes time. Materials sit in somewhat haphazard fashion, but for each piece of material, P.R. has an explanation. Tires are foundations for flowerbeds. Long pieces of abandoned steel are stems for flowers. To even have the inner eye to see these discarded items as something that can be not only reused but enhanced is the true defining factor of genius in an artist. As Jackson Pollock saw beyond the parameters of paint and canvas to create new forms of art, Miller takes his vision of what art can be to another level.

Inside his home, he has works in progress, ranging from stained glass art to ceramic bowls of all shapes and sizes. The creative process in all its glory is manifest in Frogtown Flower Farm. No, it is not neat and orderly- but neither is creativity. The person who works in a pristine environment, with everything neatly packed away and labeled, has probably done the same thing with his soul. The spark could occur at any time- the need to create the desire to bring beauty from what others have cast away. In looking at his various work areas, I’m reminded of pictures that I’ve seen of Thomas Edison’s laboratory- hundreds of projects going on at once, each in some stage of completion. I think that this is what the people who tend to see P.R. in a negative light forget. Their version of “creativity”, of “junk”, of “art” is wrapped in the cloak of conservatism that pervades the area. Is this artist asking for anything other than to be left alone? Is he creating a public nuisance? Isn’t he allowed to do what he wants to on his property?

In Franz Kafka’s classic novel The Trial, Josef K. is led through a maze of intricate legal atrocities that he has no control over, and seemingly no alternative to. Although he tries to conform with the system, to do “the right thing”, the definition of the right thing is constantly changing. A lawyer he hires to settle the matter creates further confusion. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he finds the waters of “justice” to be as murky as a Louisiana swamp. There is no escape, only further confusion.

P.R. Miller is a modern day Josef K. Like Kafka’s character, he simply wants to be left alone to do what gives him joy. Unfortunately, the Stark County courts have become Kafkaesque in relation to Miller’s case. As I sit with him in the house, he pulls out a briefcase filled with documents and legal correspondence. A novel before my eyes, I think as he reads me papers filed with the court system dating back to the early nineties. “The ambiguity of the legal system is designed specifically to keep us down, and to keep the people with power in power. The object is to enslave the masses so the power brokers maintain their dominance.” Year upon year of legal battles have taken their toll on the man. Although his artistry still remains as viable as ever, and his spirit remains strong and focused, I can only wonder if he can physically maintain his war against an enemy that seems to be able to manipulate Constitutional law in any way it sees fit. “According to the Constitution,” Miller states, “people are secure in their home, papers, persons and affects from unwarranted searches and seizures. My home has been searched without a warrant. My property has been entered twenty five times without my permission. Miller relates the story of how he and several friends were having a meeting at his home when a County judge and several armed law enforcement officers entered his property. They ordered Miller’s friends to leave the premises so that “public business could be conducted.” In essence, it seems to boil down to the problem of one neighbor having issues with the material Miller uses for art. According to Miller, the County judge has told him he cannot do anything without the judge’s consent- “a form of involuntary servitude” according to the artist.

As I stand with P.R. in an area where he keeps his recycled materials, I can look to the northwest and see a relatively new home with a man made pond. It’s nothing of the magnitude of a house in Glenmoor or Bob-O-Link; it’s a newer home with a great deal of land. The inhabitant of the home is the person who apparently has issues with P.R. In trying to manufacture a case in court against Miller, he has had an airplane fly over the property and take aerial photographs (in the process, the plane flew low enough to frighten a neighbor’s horse to the point where it was injured). P.R. states that the plane also flew below FAA ceilings, and in taking photos of his art in progress without his permission, was in violation of his rights.

Of course, battles over land and how one uses his land are as old as time itself. The thing that strikes me as unique about the P.R. Miller situation is how he is shown as someone who is packaged as “the crazy junk man”, and rarely spoken about as an artist. As I speak with people who have a bit of knowledge on the subject (whatever the TV and newspapers say), they are quick to point out how P.R. looks, or how he sounds when speaking. Again, this simply caters to the notion of bringing someone to a lowest common denominator- don’t look at the circumstances surrounding the impression- simply make judgments based on it. Certainly P.R. could dress in a way that is more suited to what the masses deem an artist to look like. He could speak in a manner more conducive to pleasant sound bites. But the question then becomes “why”? Why should someone have to conform to rules and regulations that are superficial? The court case has now gotten to a point where something will have to give… I saw one newspaper article where Miller was quoted as saying “another Ruby Ridge” could possibly happen. Of course, that was the headline- although I’m sure there were other quotes that could have been used, the sensationalism of that one sells papers, it further ups the ante that is a man’s life.

Like Kafka’s Josef K., P.R. Miller leads a life that he finds satisfactory. He doesn’t feel he is bothering anyone, and he tries his best to give something back to his community. But when he is forced to sign documents “under duress”, when his property is challenged as being residential when in fact it is zoned agricultural, it puts undue stress on the man. Instead of being free to create and perpetuate art, he is forced to come to Canton and defend himself the best he can. Although his property has doubled in value since he first bought it, it still isn’t enough to please everyone. In frustration, and to tell his side of the story, Miller has put a 10 page “legal response” on his website at www.frogtownflowerfarm.com. Two quotes from my time with him stand out in his reaction to the legal system. “Just because something is ‘lawful’ does not make it legal” and “there is no such thing as ‘the color of the law’- it’s all black or white.”

And the battle continues on.

“I’m interested in whether you’re an honest human- and whether you’re going to do something to try and help others.” The intensity of P.R.’s persona may come across as bombastic at times, but if one listens to the message, you can a real perspective of who the man is. The trials (literally and figuratively) that he has been through have certainly shaped his perspective on life and what it means. After his bout with cancer, Miller found a closer bond to God and understood better what He wanted him to do. “The Creator gives us three things: a physical body, the divine spark of energy (the soul), and time. The question becomes, what did you do with what you were given?” He sees the mission of man as doing the best one can with what you are given, without regard to race, religion, or sexual orientation- we all came from the same place, and we will all be going to the same place for judgement in his eyes. “God doesn’t ask if you scored 150 touchdowns, or if you were a millionaire- he asks what you did. I don’t want to go to him and say that I spent most of my life watching television.”

Not only does he have a strong view on man’s responsibility on Earth, but also on the way our Constitution and our money have been manipulated. Miller is currently studying the Constitution with a diverse group of people. The notion that being “a Constitutionalist” means that one is living in the hills of Wyoming and waiting for an invasion by the government is giving way to a new breed of persona. By networking within the community with many different people, it’s been found that race or national origin is not what is making the Constitution a dying document. The words written hundreds of years ago are as viable as ever- but the way that people are interpreting the words seems to be changing. P.R. has found the words, and their manipulation, to be one of the primary problems he faces in his legal battles.

As I sat with him discussing this, he asked me to pull out a dollar bill. “Who owns that money you have,” he asks me, to which I reply the government of the United States. Actually, it seems we don’t even own our money- we carry around nothing but Federal Reserve notes. “The constitution says ‘gold certificate shall be the only coin of the realm’. But the Federal Reserve Bank is owned by private entities such as the Rothschild's and Rockefellers. These people control fifty percent of the world’s wealth. We bottom feeders have to say enough is enough. Hope and faith have been removed as our foundation- now everything revolves around money. The new heroes are sports figures and entertainers. They are pawns for the rich to make money and sell more beer. We see the messages, we go out and get drunk, we wreck cars, and then the insurance companies can charge even more money. The capitalist society we live in is based on a ponzi scheme. The people at the top make more money at the expense of the masses. It is based on poverty and ignorance. ” Wow- it sounds like he just described the Ronald Reagan theory of trickle down economics!

“Why do we keep using our natural resources and throwing them away? Why do we continue to create plate instability by pumping oil out of the ground? We could conceivably never have to resort to diesel fuel if marijuana were legalized.”

Does that sound like a bit of a stretch? P.R. tells me a story to illustrate the how and why of the hemp issue. “The hemp seed is a renewable resource, unlike the oils we pump from the ground. The oil from the hemp seed is a renewable resource, and more cost effective that diesel. Everyone should read the book The Emperor Has No Clothes: it shows what has happened over the years in our war on drugs- which hasn’t succeeded. The Marijuana Law of 1937 banned hemp. William Randolph Hearst was a prime mover in getting the law passed. He has purchased many acres of forests in the United States so that he could have cheap wood pulp to publish his papers. However, International Harvester had just patented a hemp-hulling machine, which would have made hemp pulp and paper even cheaper. The United States Constitution is printed on hemp paper! But Hearst got his law, and hemp got banned.”

So hemp and its byproduct marijuana were transformed from a viable resource to the subject of movies like Reefer Madness and silly songs like Cab Calloway’s “The Reefer Man”. As the Vietnam War came into the landscape of Americana, the revolution of the sixties led to a revival of pot smoking. It always focuses on the negative aspects of the plant- never on what it could do if used in a manner that helped the environment. Hemp, like P.R. Miller, has been manipulated by the powers that be and labeled a pariah.

“There are very few college graduates today that could pass the 8^th grade proficiency test of 1898. America has been dumbed down- we’ve gone from suit and tie elitism in the education system to not even caring.” With a mother who was a teacher, P.R. Miller sees today’s educational system as acutely inadequate. One of the main reasons for the downfall in his eyes is the loss of God in the school curriculum. “In 1962, God was taken out of the schools via the legal system,” Miller states. “The big problems in the years before that were talking out loud, chewing gum, and not being proper. Today, drugs, murder, and arsons are happening all the time.” Can this be directly related to the separation of church and state in the school system? Perhaps.  The argument definitely has merit.

Although his neighbor is trying to paint Miller as having nothing more than a junk yard as a home, it’s apparent that local schools and churches don’t concur. “If there were any safety, health, or welfare issues, I wouldn’t continually have school children and Vacation Bible School children coming here.” Throughout the year, children come and get the opportunity to work with clay, to see how stained glass is made, and to listen to P.R.’s mantra of “ecological responsibility and planetary responsibility.” He tells me of his time as artist in residence at Norton Public Schools. “The experience nearly bankrupted me. I did it for next to nothing, but I did it so kids would learn you just don’t throw it away.”

He related another experience he had in the Garfield Heights School District. “They were doing a class on found object art,” he says, “and they asked me to come in and speak to one class. The class was one of the most disruptive in the school. I came into the school in second hand clothes, looking like a junk man. I told them about art, but I also told them about God and how he has a plan for all of us. The kids sat there and didn’t say a word. I told them that it isn’t the job of their teachers to teach them- the teacher is there to instill curiosity in the student. Without curiosity, your brain is closed. The student is personally responsible for wiring his own brain. I told them about my days on the garbage truck, the days I played at the dump. One student who the teacher later told me was constantly picked on by the other students because he was always coming to school dirty and in torn clothing raised his hand and told me that his father was a garbage man. And on that day, that child was not the butt of jokes- he was a hero! The one class became two classes, and eventually P.R. spent hours there spreading his message of recycling to save the earth and ourselves.

It’s always said that the key to the future is the youth of today. As generations continue to come and go, it seems more and more children think that materialism is a given, and no harm is done by disposing of something when you tire of it. As someone born in the sixties, I have no knowledge of what it’s like to go to war, or to feel the pain of an economic Depression. Poor perhaps, but always able to see the light at the end of a tunnel. Children today expect too much, and are not willing to give anything in return. P.R. can’t change the world alone… no one can for that matter. But as long as there’s a Frogtown Flower Farm, the youth can have a haven to experience what can be done if we only take the time to do it.

I wish that everyone had a chance to go to P.R. Miller’s home and spend time like I did. The perception one gets from seeing P.R. plastered on newspaper pages isn’t what you get when he’s sitting in his easy chair, watching the sun come up through his window. I believe that in his passion for what he is doing, and what he wants to do, he gives people the opportunity to make statements about him that are not true. His voice can get heated; he can get in your face and tell you why he is right. But I think the thing that we all need to do, and hopefully the show in Massillon will afford us the opportunity, is to look beneath the surface and view the man for what he is. Art is the passion of P.R. Miller’s life, and I feel that in the last few months he feels that more than ever. He is going to journey down to the American Visionary Museum in Baltimore, where art such as his is seen as the norm, not an aberration. He speaks of wanting to be an artist in residence at different locations, spreading his message beyond Ohio and the school within. It is odd how one gets to encounter people- if the whole junk man/ artist scenario had not occurred, who knows if I would have even met P.R. Miller and had a chance to step into his world. As he told me as I got in my car to leave, “you’ve seen it- now get to your keyboard and write about it.” Our area is full of people who have fancy houses, drive fancy cars, and generally sit around in bloated abundance. What they lack in creativity they make up for in materialism. They are the people driving gas-guzzling SUV’s, they are the ones carrying around their Starbucks coffee in an effort to feel a bit alternative. It’s all a big joke. Why aren’t those people persecuted for destroying the world as rapidly as their credit cards allow them to spend? P.R. Miller should be celebrated as a man who doesn’t live for the almighty dollar, but to give something back to his community. We are often so blinded by the instant gratification of a television screen that we never stop to think there is a person behind that blurb, a soul that is battling day to day to stay true to what his inner voice tells him. And it is hard. I know that P.R. is having difficulties because of all this legal wrangling that he must endure. He only asks that you take a look for yourself and don’t fall onto the broad brush the legal system is seeking to paint him with. This is an artist- a man who lives to create. By forcing him to defend his basic rights against the powers that be, we take away from our community a voice that could be doing even more to enhance us.

P.R. Miller is a junk man. He sees the world for what it is- a place polluted by dishonesty and the loss of our youth. A place that abounds with junk in the form of people and their disregard for nature and their fellow man. But fortunately he’s still trying to clean it up. And he’s very good at what he does.