For almost a year now I haven't painted. Many things are contributing to this, but one of the main issues is that, at 71, I have too many stored paintings. I lay awake at night trying to figure out what to do with these 600 babies that never fully fledged. It's a strange place for any artist to be: our identities come with what we make, it's who we are, and what we do. More than that, making is something bigger than us, more important and what connects us to what matters. Most artists of my generation, or older, are grappling with this. If we are lucky, the work is wanted, either sold or donated to Museums and art centers that will care for the art. But if we aren't so lucky, our heirs end up having big yard sales, give aways, or dropping the work off at thrift stores.
Part of the way I've been combating this is to make work that lives in my computer. Using Photoshop or, new to me, Affinity, I use my photos as the foundation for the image that is to follow. In this case, an old black and white photograph of a life sized paper mache baby elephant taken 40 years ago that I added to and deleted from, the image reminding me of just how difficult it is to deal with the process of aging.
