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I’ll be 70 years old in a few months. While I wish I’d had more time to make art when I was younger, there’s so much to be said for having this time to focus on it.

Yesterday, my physical therapist asked if I was retired. Because what I do is endlessly challenging, fun, interesting, satisfying, as well as being frightening and exasperating… I’ll keep on going until disability or death stop me.

In 2016, after three years of experimenting and failing over and over again, I finally figured out how to make my relief sculptures. More recently, I spent two years messing around with silk paint (in the process, destroying lots of both paint and silk) in order to figure out how to create the sorts of silk paintings that interest me. Now I’m busy making messes as I learn how to paint with oils.

I have the great fortune of having wonderful health, and except for s smidge of arthritis in my left hand, for which I occasionally apply a smidge of cannibis-derived ointment, I can now say that there is absolutely nothing stopping me from heading down to the studio to create.

I repurposed some furniture to make a new oil painting/drawing area in one of our upstairs rooms. I already have a big studio in my basement, but it gets dark and kinda creepy in the winter evenings. So now I can come upstairs to keep working after dark.