This home on Bridgeport’s Main Street is under renovation. I talked with the man doing the work. He told me that this is the original wall of the house, stripped down to what it had looked like when it was built over 130 years ago. He said he had removed eight coats of paint applied during the 19th and 20th centuries. He was about to begin applying its first 21st century coat. Why should I bother shooting it? What could this building mean to me, or to you? I see a story worth telling here. My photograph of it works as expressive photography because it is abstract, showing only a small portion of the house and suggesting the rest; it is incongruous, because of its temporarily distressed appearance; and it is rich in human values, suggesting the longevity of a house much older than anyone who has ever lived in it. It is this last aspect that I stress here by juxtaposing the colorful living leaves with the bare wall and that black, empty window, just waiting to come back to life again. It is if these symbolic life forces are clamoring to take over this house, and somehow restore it to its former glory. A final touch: the woman who has purchased this house and is ordering its renovation is a descendant of the family that originally built. It’s in good hands.