Death is nothing but perspective. It’s the ultimate vanishing point.
I’m Charley. They call me the “Artist of Death” which is ironic because I make a pretty good living at it. It’s a niche market but it’s a big one. Everybody dies.
So, I capture the moment on canvas. People are horrified and mesmerized. Rich people who believe (or want to believe) they can escape the reaper buy my paintings for big dollars. Then they invest in a variety of crazy life extension schemes.
Even though I make big money, what I really enjoy are small pleasures. I love painting. It’s not a morbid obsession despite what they say about me. Painting is meditation. Each painting represents a few dozen hours of timelessness, a kind of eternity.
My son Bruce is also a painter. I taught him and gave him instructions on how to carry on when I’m gone.
Bruce will mix my remains with various chemicals to produce a variety of pigments. He’ll paint with me, and on canvas I’ll live forever.