Farmhouse38, before.
There was a tiny beige house sitting in a yard full of enormous beige weeds. I remember feeling utterly exhausted by the…beige-ness of it all. I cling ferociously to the design philosophy that if you take a black and white photo of, in this case, a house, and you can’t tell the yard from the house, from the trim, from the roof…you have a problem. This house would vanish if you took that photo. And really, it already had….abandoned for at least five years, and neglected for so long before that, it was just a sad little place. It was evident that nobody wanted it. But I like to bring home strays.
Farmhouse38, after.
