Albert Fahrnbauer and his wife Barbara have moved to a dilapidated old house on a hill near Atlanta, Georgia. They tear out the wall in the hall to make room for an art studio. Barbara paints the portraits because Alberts artwork does not sell. He insists she use his oil paint system. He has devoted his life to it, his sacred quest. His system of precise color matching, he claims, will reveal the glory of each individuals inner life. Barbara hates his system and wants to paint free and messy. She finds the romantic life of poverty is not to her liking, and wants to return to where she was a successful artist in Miami Beach hotels. When he discovers Barbara is pregnant he is furious. This will cause all kinds of distractions. It does indeed. From then on, everything depends on this event, along with traumas over vegetable gardening, goats and chickens. To survive they have to live off the land, but have no farming experience whatsoever. They make hilarious mistakes, endure periods of starvation, moments of euphoria, and violent arguments over ways to paint. It is also the time of Civil Rights, the 1950s and early 60s. Their mortgage holder belongs to the KKK. He brings his preacher buddy one time to tell them their Southern traditions regarding Negroes must not be violated. Their white neighbors and customers oppose any change in the racial customs. Albert confronts them with his humanitarian philosophy. All people, he tells them, have a unique and wonderful radiance of living color. His system will prove it if only Barbara will paint with it. So goes the story of two very different artistic personalities, where each of them came from, and how their backgrounds inspire, damage, and diverge throughout their lives together.