The Time of Our Lifes
Like most artists, each work I make places me at the threshold of becoming. Takes me to the crossroads of who I was, who I am and who I imagine I might want to be. To the boundaries of my own inner contradictions.
In order to make NOBODY'S BUSINESS, an intimate portrait of my 80 year old father, Oscar, I had to be just vulnerable enough to contemplate transforming the personal into the public, yet just courageous enough to believe it was for good reason. Just dumb enough to think I could do it, but then just smart enough to pull it off. And, as in the making of any work of art that focuses life through the prism of time, just young enough and/but just old enough...
Just young enough not to know any better. Just old enough to really care. Just young enough not to ask anybody's permission. Just old enough to realize that if I didn't do it now, I might never have another chance. Young enough to rush in recklessly. Old enough to take my time leaving. Young enough to ask ten thousand questions. Old enough to let a few go unanswered. Young enough to have a quick left jab. Old enough to know when to take a punch. Young enough to hate losing. Old enough to let him win. (Some of the time, anyway.) Young enough to still be his dutiful son. Too old to still call him Daddy. Young enough to still think I can change him. Old enough to realize I am already alot like him. Young enough to think I can keep him from growing old. Old enough to know better. Young enough to be exasperated, even angry. Old enough to show my love. Young and stubborn. Older and even more stubborn.