Grandmother's Porch

When I was growing up, our family would gather at my maternal grandmother's house for special occasions, or just to visit.  Her family was quite large, and when everyone visited, her house would seem much too small and crowded, so my two girl cousins and I would escape to the cool and airy, spacious front porch. There we practiced our pig latin on each other, told stories to each other that we made up, and pretended we were fairies and the garden was our fairyland. The front door had a large oval of beveled glass which we pretended was a magic looking glass. On the 4th of July, we could sit on the steps and watch the fire works shot into the sky at the LA Colosseum.  This is how I remember her house looking. I now know it was a beautiful Craftsman bungalow.
I have decided to paint a series of all the places that are meaningful to me, with emphasis on what made those locales special . This is the second in that series.

5"x6" acrylic on linen paper     $50.