This picture hangs above my desk at work and bears the signature of Salvadore Dali, the great surrealist painter from the 20th century.  It was given to me by a client as a closing gift.  At the time I thought it was an outrageous gift.  I now know that my clients have a wonderful sense of humor.  You see it hangs above my desk because it is practically worthless.  By the end of his life Dali would sign his name to any piece of paper which was put in front of him.  Not only that, but many of the original plates for his lithographs were circulating as well, which allowed con-artists to make forged lithographs signed by Salvadore Dali, created with his original plates.  Because of the prevalence of these forgeries his lithographs have little if any market value.

I have to confess that I didn't really enjoy this picture when I first started looking at it.  It seemed harsh and crass but it really has grown on me over time.  I see it as a warning.  A cautionary tale of what we can become as we age.  If my guess is right I think that the piece dates from the early 1970s, or at least the plates do. when Dahli would have been aware of his own aging.  The "old man" in the picture has long since lost any physical appeal and yet he continues to reach out.  He is incredibly vulnerable.  He is naked.  His organs are on the outside of his body.  Yet he still drools and has a look of desire on his face.  He has many grasping hands which all reach out toward the unseen object of desire. 

I am not sure what the object of desire is for all of you but since I am at work when I look at this lithograph, I take it as a reminder to not make success in my job the main value I place on my existence.  I see this painting as the visual representation of what Arthur Miller wrote about in "The Death of Salesman."  It is a great reminder to me to go home in the evening and not to take it all too seriously. 

The problem with judging success based on my career is that I might be consumed by my desire for my career.  As Arthur Miller points out this can leave us "salesmen" tremendously vulnerable and insecure and yet still grasping for that next success.  I hope that I can approach aging with more dignity and perspective than Willy Loman (Miller's salesman).  In order to do that I have to be able to know when to go home at night and when to be with my children.  The painting reminds me when to do just that.