Reading about Carmen Herrera, the artist I featured here yesterday who was “found” at age 89 and is still actively painting at 100, brought some thoughts about the idea of retiring to mind. While it’s not something that I dwell on, I am at that age when one begins to think about such things. In the last year or so, at different times I have been asked by a couple of friends who are not artists, one who is my age and is retired, if I was thinking about retiring.
The question kind of surprised me each time I was asked. I mean, I know that it’s a possibility and I do the things that one should do when planning for retirement in a financial sense. But being asked about it caught me off guard.
But giving it some thought made me realize that retirement was not the end point I was shooting for in my life. In fact, I can’t imagine ever retiring from what I do. How could I put aside that thing that has given me purpose, that thing that connects me to this world and gives me expression? Why would I stop searching for answers to questions I haven’t even asked yet?
The whole idea of retiring seems like a foreign concept to me and my life as it has come to be.
In fact, as I’ve gotten older, I find myself looking for more and more time in which I can continue my work. Time has become a more and more precious commodity. Any time spent ill or in pain is time taken from this work so I have began actively working harder at being fit and healthy. I hate giving up time for working out or walking. I would much rather be working but knowing that it is required for continuing my work longer into this life makes this a valuable investment.
Seeing Carmen Herrera at work at 100 years old, even in her wheelchair, and the many other artists who worked into their 80’s and 90’s gives me hope for this idea of never retiring. Looking around the studio, I realize that there is so much more work to be done. Work that I feel I must do. Each day seems to uncover more and more facets to be probed, more questions to answer. There is just not enough time in this life and I am not going to give up until that sun on the horizon leaves and fails to rise the next morning.
So hopefully, if I am lucky enough, you’ll see me several decades down the line, still at work. And happy for it…
They say if you wait for the bus, the bus will come. I say, yeah, I waited 98 years for the bus to come and nobody cared about what I did.
The words above are from a documentary called The 100 Years Show starring Carmen Herrera from filmmaker 
I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.
Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
This painting is an orphan, one of those few pieces that ended up back with me here in the studio after making the rounds of the galleries. I don’t mind that it came back as it has always held a special place in my heart– orphans have that effect on me. I like the roughness of its surface, the deepness of the colors in the sky (which are so hard to capture with my photography) and the contrast of the scene’s quietness against the turbulence of the sky’s energy.
There’s a good possibility that you haven’t heard of Harald Sohlberg, a Norwegian painter who lived from 1869 until 1935. I know he was not on my radar until I stumbled across a few of his images. In fact, there is not a lot of info about him outside of a short perfunctory bio.
Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.
Sunday morning quiet…
I thought since this was St. Patrick’s Day that I would feature an Irish painter. There are a couple of obvious choices– Francis Bacon and Jack Butler Yeats, for example– but I chose Paul Henry, who spent his life painting his native Ireland from 1877 until 1958. He was perhaps the best known painter in Ireland through the first half of the 20th century though many of us here in the States may not recognize the name.
Redtree Times 