EVENING 9/24/20

Evening, pastels/cutout canvas, 77"x70", 1989

I am feeling hopelessly disheartened watching our nation slip into autocracy with the Executive Branch making Congress impotent. Hurriedly packing the Supreme Court, in the event that nine Justices become the “decider” in anticipation of the November election -another example of Trump's march to despotism. Cases of blatant murder against black lives are being ignored by a Grand Jury of fellow Americans. Has injustice infiltrated the moral imperative of many of our citizens? It grievously looks that way.

Autocracy/Fascism/Dictatorship/Despotism are words I never thought I would say about a nation whose Constitution includes checks and balances to rein in “abuses of power” - a document admired and imitated around the world.  I never thought I would use those insidious words about a  President of this country - the country that my parents fled to in order to save their lives from a maniacal tyrant in 1938. FDR closed the doors and gave in to the Isolationists and Anti-Semites after 1940, but my father and mother were able to enter just in time, while my paternal grandparents never had that opportunity being sent off from their home in Berlin to the “model ”concentration camp - Theresienstadt where they eventually died/shipped off to die. This haunted my parents and continues to haunt me as I view the “war” against immigration today. The detention cages filled with separated children, disease rampant, and an uncaring administration who precipitated this disaster.

https://www.vox.com/policy-and-politics/2017/1/27/14412082/refugees-history-holocaust

This upcoming election will change our lives. It might precipitate a “constitutional crisis” and the only defense we have is the vote and our voices raised in protest. Covid-19 has made this all the more difficult, but participation will be critical. Time is racing on.

CODED AGEISM 9/20/20

I am now an “upper senior” - a term that the woman who hired me to teach painting used for mature students in my class who were over 70 years of age. As I reach the top of the age pyramid I recently decided to publicly reveal how old I was on social media, which I am beginning to believe might have been an ill-considered move. Because I am very active, having often been called “hyper” because of my “bouncing around eccentric personality”- a product of thinking and expressing everything that comes into my provocatively spinning brain, some people took me to be younger than I was chronologically. NOW that they know how old I am they look at me and act differently. Many of my friends and those closest to me advise that I no longer should be spending grueling hours teaching; I momentarily agree when I get home from working and can barely walk.  Recovery time might take longer but the process is worth it:  I love to look at art; art from amateurs, art from “real” artists, art from those whose work has wonderful potential, and seeing that potential realized. I love that my eye is as sharp as ever and my critical faculties still clear and incisive.

I just started teaching again (outdoors under a tent) during the CoVid-19  pandemic and several concerned students were telling me to take a break, to rest, to sit down - being lovingly protective - wondering if I would trip or fall while teaching.  One student whispered to me that her mother-in-law had died and would I like surplus boxes of DEPENDS that she left behind. I confusedly looked at her wondering if I am obviously leaking somewhere. I responded graciously that I was fine and had all the paraphernalia that I needed to stay dry at this time.

I noticed that some students during pre- Co-Vid times attempted to take my elbow steering me about like a sheep being herded by a snapping dog not realizing that I am fine in the upper echelons of time - despite two knee replacements, some unsteadiness due to dizzy spells,  worry about the world going to shit, and admittedly moderate complaining….but working all the time on my painting, photography, and writing and basically joyful about who I am and who I have become. Time bequeaths wisdom and breathes life upon a slowly dying body.