I can’t tell you why I paint doors, but I do. This door has a broken number. Maybe its because as a child, I lived in so many places and had so different doors. I do know that as a child we lived in a hotel for a brief period and I think some of those memories keep seeping thru. My memories are rather vague because I was very young but my older brother says it was a fleabag hotel. Maybe this is what the door looked like. The model for this dog was my black Lab, Sam.
Stumble It!
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