This watercolor was born of a day’s photo shoot in which I tracked derelict houses in the old South near Fuquay-Varina, NC.
Having grown up here in the South, it is a subject near and dear to my heart. Old things appeal to me. Even rust can be beautiful. Wood develops patinas. Rough spots take on character and expression. Old houses teem with life. I am remembering some old, abandoned houses on the way to Kinston like these, with the native briars and greenery taking over the house until it literally grows out from within.
Memories of good times spring to mind, like children playing in the yard, like watermelons split open on the porch, like uncles whistling the whistles that carried for miles. So many pictures of family gatherings on the old porches spring to mind, of awesome food–my mother’s potato salad, chicken and dumplings and Brown Betty or apple-pan-dowdy, of relatives converging and staying for a visit.
I’ve left all the cliche expressions out of this in order to hit the hardest and strum on the heart strings. I’ve been told it looks like a Wyeth. You couldn’t have said anything nicer.