The Alamo

We moved into a house that the neighbors called “The Alamo” for its barren, ramshackle facade. The nickname stuck. Our children have grown and moved out, but we haven’t yet. It has an emptied feeling, not exactly bereft, but not quite intact either. This is such an ordinary story that it is not really worth painting. I’m interested in seeing what happens when you put things that seem not-worth-painting into the grandiose site of painting.

Must one then separate history into representable and unrepresentable events? No event demands to be represented or not to be represented. There should always be the possibility for choice.– Peter Geimer

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