The Color of Life

Text by Sue Kreitman

old am I? Somewhere between my mid seventies, and eternity. By the time my
mother was my age, she was dead for 25 years, so you can understand why I
consider growing old an adventure and a privilege.
But I must tell
you that I am not really an old lady; just cleverly disguised as one. Art and
colour keep me young, keep me sane. Working as I do as an untutored ‘outsider’
artist is my therapy, my medicine, my joy and my purpose in life.  
I mentor and
support visionary young artists and a few old ones as well. I create and curate
iconoclastic art exhibitions. My life has purpose and my mind and imagination
are always going full tilt.
Colour surrounds
me: I revel in it, splash it everywhere, gulp it with a spoon. I am immersed in
art. I make it, collect it, it fills and defines my existence. Childish,
shamanistic, wild and anarchic, it is as far outside the box as it is possible
to be. Box?? There is no box!
When I leave the
house, I cannot bear to leave my collections and creations behind. So I wrap,
festoon, curate myself before I sashay out into the world. The kimonos I
wear everyday are hand painted by Diane Goldie, or collaged by Lauren Shanley,
or designed by me, and stitched together by a local tailor.  My necklaces are art objects, usually
rather large, and created by me, or by artist friends.
How lucky I am:
relatively healthy, a supportive family, a wild assortment of vivid and
talented friends. At this age, we may not be dead yet, but we can almost see it
from here. It’s the Memento Mori thing: remember death, but choose life for as
long as you possibly can.
Be bold, be adventurous.  Do profound things, dazzle yourself and the world. Contribute
to society, and live large. Life is short, make every moment count. It is never
too late to find your passion.