She couldn't bear and wouldn't look
at the wrinkles on her skin
she cranked up this, and shored up that
only to be worse than she
had ever been.

I think that the hardest thing for me to do with this piece was title it. I wanted to call it Post Menopause Art or something along those lines. All the while I was working on it I kept think gosh she looks like Suzeanne Sommers.  When I was preparing it for print I saw for the first time the word Age on her thigh. (it had been part of an antique cigar tin I had called PORTAGE)  That sealed the deal for me.  On a more serious note, it is yet another piece of the "Visual Diary of the journey to the Edge of Dysphoria"  It is another likely outcome of a world left with no more than Man as God.  We will tweak, and twist and improve by any means possible our aging carcasses.  Because we are all about appearances and youth.  I would love to learn to see us as God sees us...beauty in the hoary heads and wrinkled faces.