By the age of 60, Streeter Blair had tried half a dozen careers. He had taught Latin, managed a haberdashery, edited a boys' magazine called The Knicker, ended up operating a successful antique shop in Los Angeles.
For all this modest success, he would be little noted except for the happenstance that one day a customer bought some unrecorded artifact and asked him to describe the old Pennsylvania farmhouse it came from. Words failed him, and he decided that the only way he could convey his vision was to paint it—even though he...
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