The house itself is strictest Wyeth: gabled white clapboard, severe and trim and sagging a little off plumb; country-craftsman geometry perched on a flat tongue of land at the sea's edge in Cushing, Me. It looks thrifty, and was; its owner bought it for $50 and trucked it to the site. Inside, the illusion of having entered one of the man's pictures multiplies. The ceilings are low, the furniture old and spartan, the rooms small, white and uncluttered. A lot of distinct air surrounds each object. Through the front window, one sees a...
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