This painting is about life, running away from us faster than we can believe. No Botox, extreme exercising, diet, surgery, will bring back our youth. We see our seconds, minutes and days, our dreams and desires, escaping softly into the universe. We must celebrate our life. My friend Helen turned 80 years old a few days ago. She celebrated her 29,200 days with the following poem:
EIGHTY
I'm looking at eighty, the big Eight-O And I'm overwhelmed.
How did it happen?
Sixty is old, seventy is ancient, But eighty--that's incredible!
You can turn 80 upside down and it's still 80.
And if you stack the 0 in a vertical row On top of the 8,
It could be three 0's in a column
Which wins the game in tic-tac-toe!
Put the 8 on its side with the 0 Lying next to it
And it looks like 2 lemons and an orange
Which may get you something From the slots in Las Vegas,
But doesn't do much for me in its chronological
Reality.
So, eighty-schmeighty, what do I think?
Hey, it's only a number! Right?
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