901 Prince St. in Beaufort SC is where I moved when I was 25 years old. It was my grandmother's house and I lived in the upper left room (far room on the right as viewed here). The painting is an acrylic wash (basically a watercolor) and I exhibited the painting in several shows locally.
I rebuilt the white picket railings along the entranceway and first level when the picket spokes started rotting after years of neglect. My grandmother Matteson was a concert pianist who had suffered a stroke and never completely recovered. She was tipsy when she walked and was a very witty and charming lady.
I was told I had to come home by 9:00 every evening but eventually managed to secure playing jobs that kept me out and since I was making money she had to relent, the curfew was officially dropped and things began to improve. My grandmother insisted on cooking me lunch but the problem was- she couldn't cook. She usually set a pot on the stove and wandered about the house until I smelled something burning. Most of her pots were melted and stained while the food was... well I could eat anything.
She was happy to have someone around just to talk, and could she talk. After hearing the family stories dozens of times I usually made an excuse and managed to escape to the local library or would hole up in my room and practice. Still it was an ideal situation for me and I studied guitar diligently and learned to play.
I spent five years in Beaufort at 901 Prince St. before seeking my fortune in Winston-Salem.