A few years ago, my doctors told me to get my affairs in order. If my heart lasted 2 more years, that would be remarkable. So I did. I retired from my company after 40 years at the helm, handing the reins over to my daughter. In a flurry of creative energy, I sculpted 12 new pieces - thinking these would be the last sculptures I would ever make. Next, I moved out to California where there is a bit more air to breath than here at the foot of Pikes Peak. And I waited.
Then a strange thing happened - I didn't die. In fact, I started to feel better. I took up a few new hobbies, took a stab at recording my memoirs, read a few books, and then a few more. I tinkered and puttered. And by 2015, it began to dawn on me that maybe I wasn't dying after all. Maybe I still had some more time. And more things to do. So I grabbed a handful of clay and got back to doing what I love.
Truth be told, I work a bit slower now-a-days. But I also savor the experience now more than ever. Just the feel of the clay in my hands - its like coming home after being gone for far too long.
On my 78th birthday, I released 5 new sculptures. And I just love them. They have given me the opportunity to tell some new stories and honor a few of the people who have influenced my life.
