Afternoons with Bill (2022 +)

Bill was a month shy of his 94th birthday when he passed last summer. He endured intense pain and mobility challenges, yet his paintings called him into the studio daily like the mythical Sirens. He was consumed with his pursuit of harmonious color and the attainment of a perfect edge. Artwork, both complete and in-process, spilled throughout his home like a chaotic color wheel.

When I first met Bill, I was instantly drawn to this man who, faced with profound disability, continued to innovate for the purpose of creating artwork. His body was frail, his skin wrinkled, bruised and transparent, but his mind was engaged and razor sharp. When he could no longer stand enough to paint, he purchased an art desk and worked on smaller canvases. When his shoulder seized, he supported movements of his right arm and wielded his paint roller with his left. His super power was circumventing his limitations by implementing a workaround to produce his vision.

Bill lived his final years alone and independent in his home of 60 years. He sped through the maze of hallways on his Zoomer, little concerned for door jams in his eagerness to arrive in his studio. Blessed with family and friends who purchased groceries, brought in mail and carted paintings around town, his phone provided a lifeline to his independence, allowing him to procure meals, art supplies and the occasional rescue. Even so, life at home continued to press in upon him, creating ever changing obstacles to his ease and safety. A paradox is exposed as he moved about his home indifferent to the clutter but was driven by his precision in painting. In a way he was a sculptor, carving literal pathways in his home environment for his creativity, unperturbed by the perils of the growing mounds.

David Whyte states in his book, ‘Consolations’ (on Friendship),
“…the ultimate touchstone is witness, the privilege of having been seen by someone and the equal privilege of being granted the sight of the essence of another, to have walked with them and to have believed in them, and sometimes just to have accompanied them for however brief a span, on a journey impossible to accomplish alone.”

My ‘Afternoons with Bill’ offered me insight into the fortitude required to live my life with agency as I confront mortality.