Saturday, August 17, 2013

1955




The year we moved into the house my father built. He did most of the work himself. A fact I can't wrap my head around today.

I moved out of the house in 1977. I did not have any idea how much I would miss the place, the time and all the occupants.

I can still feel the warm, breezy air on a hot summer day. I felt so free, running through the fresh clean sheets hanging on the clothesline.

This is an acrylic painting on an 8x10 canvas panel.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Summer Daze




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad


The house I picked for this challenge is a favorite fantasy of mine. I always run away in my mind to a beach house. I live there all alone and paint. I have no responsibilities and time is endless.