This second picture is, sadly, how I paint. Notice the windows don't line up, the house is too big... and on and on.
This is a photograph of the house I was trying to paint. It's an old abandoned farm house down the road from where my father grew up and where I spent many Sunday's as a child, riding horses and chasing cats in the barn. It's also... haunted! Two people have committed suicide here, one hung himself in an old abandoned coal mine located on the property and another shot himself in the living room. I did not go inside. They didn't have any money growing up, but as they grew old and were no longer able to farm, they sold their property to the state and acres and acres of their land are now what is known as Jubilee State Park. They became millionaires but never changed their lives, living in this home til all were dead and gone.
I took my children here years ago to photograph them by the barn. It was a day still as death. Not a breeze in the air. We walked up to the property by a field where a path of weeds stood over our heads. In unison we each turned as we heard the wind coming closer and closer to where we stood. Staring down the path, we watched in amazement as the weeds farthest away begin bending in the breeze. It moved towards us and blew through the weeds as if they were tumbling dominos. I heard my daughter's voice, "Theeeeeeeeey're heeeeeeeeeere," and I knew we were not alone.
I wasn't happy with my first painting so a couple of weeks later I tried again, using the photographs I had taken. My father informed me the house needed a path so, I obliged him. It was the least I could do since he had accompanied me on my painting expedition the day I painted the first picture. If we had any visitors that day, my father did not speak of it, nor did I.