Sunday, November 13, 2011
There is a story............there always is. We all tell one. The story can be good, bad and/or ugly. Stories, just the same. The most important story is about how/where we grew up. About the early years that shaped us into what we are today. And how we can change that story whenever need be.
This isn't my story. This is my husband's (Lynn) story about when/how and where he grew up. This painting is with regard to the place where he spent most of his formative years. The place where he created very important memories. The memories he has shared with me over all the years we have been together. The memories that shaped this portrait. Lynn was the oldest of five boys. He has the earliest memory of any of his brothers when first moving into this house.
His mother (who was the best mother-in-law anyone could ever have) had the most pristine yard and home. She was an amazing daughter, woman, teacher, wife, mother, grandmother and great grandmother. She welcomed me in to her home that Christmas eve of 1968 with open arms. It has been an honor for me to paint the portrait of this place aptly called "home". A home that housed ALL boys. A home that welcomed (with loving arms) my visiting family members whenever we came "home." The back patio was the popular hangout for visitors. And we all came together on that spot for years.
Lynn's mother passed away in 2003. His father continued to live in this house until he died this past Feb. He was able to stay home, due to the loving care of two family members. He spent his last warm months sitting out on the patio, feeling the sunshine, welcoming visitors and taking a snooze or two. He loved his patio. He loved his home. It's a good story.
Photos show the progression the house portrait. If you are a family member (extended or otherwise) and would like a free print of this painting, let me know. I present this in loving memory of Roger and Ruby Hill.