Robyn Beverland's paintings will be shown at a Washington D.C. gallery dedicated to arts programs that aid people with disabilities. 

          It's hard to believe that the man who paints them, Robyn Beverland, can barely see.

          Even harder to believe is that less than a year after he painted his first one, 11 of his works are going on display in a Washington, D.C., art gallery.

          Beverland, 34, is a familiar figure around Oldsmar, where his friends all call him "The Beaver."  A rare genetic disorder called Wolfram syndrome has left him with a stumbling walk, a stutter, and a constant sweat, as well as diabetes, bladder problems, and eyesight that has grown progressively dimmer.  He is now blind in his left eye and has about 40 percent of his vision in the right.

          Yet he often volunteers to help with community projects like the Oldsmar Family Fest, and he's always shooting off wisecracks like a man without a care in the world.  Ask him how long ago he started painting, for instance, and he'll joke, "I was born with a paintbrush in my hand."

          Actually, he started painting last July when his father, City Council member Jerry Beverland, decided it might be good therapy for him and  bought him some plywood and house paint.  But what started out as therapy has turned into much, much more.

          At first, the budding artist painted mostly just faces.  Then his parents gave him some picture books, and he started branching out, painting subjects like chickens, cats, football players, even the Statue of Liberty.

          Beverland works fast with his commonplace materials.  He figures he can turn a scrap of plywood into a painting in just a few minutes.  He gets some of his ideas from listening to music or from comments people make.  The image just pops into his head.

          "First I paint the board white," he said.  "Then I can see the picture on the board."

          His mother, Wanda, sells quilts and costume jewelry at crafts shows around the Southeast.  So his parents started taking Beverland's paintings around with them, too, and selling them for $20.00 or so apiece. 

          And selling them.  And selling them.  And selling them.

          Then along came Randy Siegel.

          The first time Siegel stumbled on Beverland's collected work, he had spent the day wandering around an Atlanta flea market and was about as tired as he could be.  And then, in a back corner booth full of quilts, he found what he calls "these fabulous paintings."

          "There's a lot of purity in his work," Siegel said.  "Yet the paintings contain a poignancy that could only come from an adult who has had some trials in life." he said.

          Siegel, a collector of folk art, bought five or six of Beverland's paintings on the spot.  When he got home, he called a number of his friends to tell them about his discovery.  The next day, Beverland's paintings sold out.

          But Siegel did much more than put a few dollars in the artist's pocket.  He gave him the kind of career boost that would have driven Van Gogh insane with jealousy.

          Siegel serves on the advisory board for the Museum of American Folk Art in New York and has a number of contacts among fellow collectors.  So he called Denise Warner to tell her about Robyn Beverland.

          Ms. Warner is co-director of the Very Special Arts Gallery, a Washington D.C., art gallery dedicated to arts programs that aid people with disabilities.  The gallery, founded in 1974 by Jean Kennedy Smith, is affiliated with the Kennedy Center for the Performing arts.

          The gallery asked Beverland to send some photos of his work so Ms. Warner could assess his talent.  She liked what she saw, and in a letter to Beverland called his work "truly wonderful."

          "It epitomizes what folk art is all about," Ms Warner said in an interview.  "He's self-taught.  He's got an original vision.  He uses materials found around the house."

          So now the gallery in downtown Washington intends to display 11 of Beverland's paintings as part of its American Folk Art and Craft Show from April 1 to May 22.  Only 20 artists were invited to display their works, Ms. Warner said.

          One of Beverland's paintings, We Are All One, will be featured on the invitation to the exhibit's opening, she said.

          Siegel is delighted at what Beverland's mother calls his "overnight success."

          "All of a sudden, this thing that Robyn did as a form of self-expression has become a way to reach out to others," Siegel said.  "I think he's got a very bright future.  He's attracting a lot of attention from collectors."

          Yet the future may not be all that bright.  A 1989 study of patients with Wolfram syndrome done by a group of researchers at the University of North Carolina reported that a patients optic nerve gradually decreases in size and function, causing a gradual loss of eyesight.

          "A number of them have gone completely blind," said Dr. Ronnie Swift, one of the researchers.

          Wolfram patients face an even greater threat than blindness.  Out of 71 patients in the study-one of whom is Beverland-20 had died.  The oldest who died was 43.

          For now, though, Beverland is basking in his new found success.  He jokes about being named "Grandpa Moses" and getting a visit from the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous camera crew.

          Last week, his father stood up in an Oldsmar City Council meeting to hand out a plaque awarded by the city to a distinguished citizen.  Before he got halfway through the introduction he started getting choked up.  Finally, as he announced whom the plaque wound go to, he broke down completely.

          "My son," he said, and hugged the smiling artist.  The audience have them a standing ovation.