John's House, pastel, 6"x9"

John was our next-door neighbor. He had a substance problem, hep-c, and cancer. A year ago he died while we were on vacation. Our first day back a police officer came to our door asking if we knew if he had family.

Not a particularly easy man to live near, John was a packrat. This back yard at one time was filled with old broken bicycles and rusty collectible automobiles from the 40's . . . which broke nearly every code in the book. He was a sad individual and we alternated between pity and frustration, but humanity often won, and John was often the recipient of trays of finger food after art shows and what-not. Another of our neighbors said John had made peace with God after a lifetime of anger directed toward his Creator . . . but it was still sad that his passing went so very unnoticed . . . much like his life except for those occasions when he was raging drunk.

I simplified the landscape a little and gave John some room he never had in life. The 4' tall dandelions were being cut as I worked on this . . . John's brother now neglects the yard the way he neglected his sibling.

This little tiny 500 sq ft house could be a nice studio if I had the money . . . John might have actually liked that idea. Deep inside he hid a soft side and a desire to be surrounded by beauty. He was always planting a new tree or flower, which would always die . . . but he never stopped trying . . .