Some time ago I wrote that the administration of this retirement home had asked the art group to produce paintings that they could hang in the waiting room of the office section. “It’s the area where potential residents wait for the sales staff to attend to them so make the paintings friendly…”

I pondered and searched for not only a suitable subject – my idea of a nude was short-lived – but a dramatic statement, one like, “even us old folks can make you sit up and notice” and a few days ago I had a Eureka moment when I stumbled on a picture of a wild horse. Not one wild horse, three! This has to be an idea that only a demented man could come up with at age 79.5! Who in their right mind would think about painting a horse? What Sunday afternoon painter who specializes in calm seascapes and flat landscapes would undertake anything as complicated as painting a horse, perhaps the most complicated of all animals? Horses are full of muscles, tendons and veins, knobbly knees and sharp hooves, shiny coats and wild eyes.

You’re right; I guess I may have reached it, the nuttiness of old age, the last wild attempt at becoming an old master, a final shot at becoming famous in the art world, the new Grandma Moses. On the other hand, why not? Why shouldn’t I paint 3 wild horses? They may even come out all right and if a few of the residents and potential residents think they look like camels or other animals, that’ll be fine. And if at the end, I too cannot see any resemblance to horses, I simply won’t sign the painting – but I will insist that the management hangs it; a deal is a deal…