My Pink House

I never thought much about growing up in a pink house in New Orleans. My mom had a great sense of color and style so as a child I never questioned her choices. Everything always looked nice to me.

It still looks nice to me.

One day a friend rode up on his bicycle and said, “You live in a pink house.”

It was as if I had never noticed.

Since that day in 1975, when I was an impressionable teen-ager, I have noticed the color of houses. Now I am an artist so that should come with the territory, but Jimmy’s comment started the process.

I have been out of touch with the world for a few weeks. Leave it to say a loved one needed some special time. This was a time out of my studio, so I started, again, to work on my children’s book.

It begins with a sentence about the main character living in my pink house.

"in my pink house" watercolor and ink

“in my pink house”
watercolor and ink

I am once again in the studio so hope to make some progress on this book. I have read it to children over the years and always had a positive response. It is time for me to be my character’s champion and get him out of the drawer and into the world.

Pink house and all.


8 thoughts on “My Pink House

  1. Hannah

    I think that living in a pink house sounds divine– and I’m sure that the character living there agrees with me! I look forward to further adventures in the Pink House. So glad that you are back up in your studio and drawing once again.

    1. bethrommel Post author

      Thank you Hannah, it is very good to be home and working again. Also life in that pink house was just what a childhood was supposed to be. It was wonderful.

      1. Anonymous

        That’s so odd. I don’t remember it being pink at all. Oh well. There goes the memory. I will be in the Atlanta airport next Friday night. Does that count?

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