At 77, after more than 50 years of making art, my enthusiasm has not diminished. In fact, it’s stronger. Every morning I look forward to working in my studio, if only to straighten things or read a book. It is where I can indulge my joy. I love trying to do things I haven’t done, don’t know or understand. “Tell him it is impossible and then he gets interested,” was how a personality assessment test described my character. 

Two weeks ago I finished my one-hundredth unique small book. Each book is twelve pages plus covers. The project took four years. The last ten books were the most difficult. It felt as if I had exhausted all my ideas. After months of false starts, I finally came up with a solution: I reinterpreted old drawings and prints; cast about for new/old materials; and invented “The Miscellaneous Eye,” the name of one of the last books.  When I was done, I ordered ten new books of blank pages.

Age has taught me that “progress,” when applied to my artwork, is an inaccurate term. “Confidence” is more correct.  Now I am  confident that a special engagement will take place between myself and the medium. That translates into “just keep working, it will bear fruit.”

The art that happens continues to mystify me. I work and rework the image. Sometimes colors trigger the process. Sometimes a form emerges out of the confusion, or suddenly the picture announces, “I’m done!”

I’ve become accustomed to my morning struggle, my preceding evening’s sleep having primed my imagination. Keeping one’s mind open, active, insightful, inventive, and resilient is especially important as one ages. Art has given me these gifts.

As the oldest living member of my extended family, I “carry the family torch.”  Often my thoughts turn to my parents, aunts, uncles, and forefathers, all deceased.Their struggles paved the way for my life today, with benefits they could never imagine. The publication of my book, “Traces of Sepharad, Etchings of Judeo-Spanish Proverbs,” was my way of saying “thank you,” to my extended family and our forefathers. 

So with hope, courage and surprise, I look forward to a new year of life and art.