Was this house the road to paradise?
Strangely enough, that really was the name of the street it stood on.

I say stood, because the house is no longer there. This beautiful old building, with handmade tiles and time-worn charm, has been torn down.
If you look closely, you can already see the outlines of what’s coming next.

The house had stories—
One in particular was told to me by a local.
A couple once lived there, brought together more by necessity than romance.
He worked in Basel’s red-light district.
When their daughter came of age,
he led her into the same line of work.

Eventually, she married one of her father’s clients,
a man with status from French-speaking Switzerland.
They had two children.
But when his midlife crisis came calling,
he traded her in for someone younger.
She returned to Basel.
The house she grew up in was put up for sale.

She sold it to someone who saw opportunity, not history.
It was bought cheap and quickly demolished.
Not long after, she passed away.

That’s the story. A quiet slice of local history.
And strangely enough, I painted the house before I knew any of it.

I stretch all my canvases by hand— European linen, hand-nailed edges, and three coats of diluted gesso. The painting will arrive carefully wrapped, safe in its journey.

And when you look at it, maybe you’ll wonder who once lived behind those windows,
and what kind of lives they led.