Been clearing the artstock; removing paintings, washing them down, restocking them; taking out chests of photos.
Certain amount of triage involved.
Painful physically and emotionally. On the plus side, remembering positive attitudes. My generation of artists, poets, musicians were happily overthrowing our parents past and absolutely secure in our convictions. We knew the world was changing, hurrah; what we didn't know is that the new world was nothing at all to do with us. We were working hard for our cultural extinction, which happened regardless...
tant pis.
Here's a portrait of me from ??? made by a computer. You sat in front of a camera and a machine typed out the image which is made entirely by text. Brave new world, eh.
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