When I came upon this abandoned home in southern Indiana, it was a hot summer day. My son Nathan and I were touring the covered bridges in the area. As we drove along a country road, I looked to my left and I saw the house, set back from the road, deep in overgrown landscape. I put the car in reverse and backed up to see the place again. I knew immediately I wanted to paint that house. I envisioned children long ago playing about the farm on lazy summer days with delightful screams of horseplay assaulting the landscape. I could hear the now silent dilapidated screen door slam against the door jam as children ran in and out of the house. The real sounds of bees and other flying insects and birds added to my vision of yesteryear. The worn white house became Old Blue