While I was drawing this, the owner of the house pulled up in her car, crossed the road to see what I was doing, and said, ‘Oh my that’s pretty, I’m going to send my husband out.’
About half an hour later the husband crossed the road, stood to my right, looked down at my drawing and started telling me the history of the house and his suburb.
‘It’s California style,’ he told me, ‘I’ve had the house 21 years but it’d been standing for 20 before we got it.’
Then he told me his son still lived at home, but that his daughter had gone.
‘This was the first suburb built on the island and there’s no sewerage system.’
Then suddenly he changed the subject.
‘What’s a pretty young thing like you doing with all that mess up your arms,’ he said pointing at my tattoos, ‘and all up your legs?’