In his 40's Australian artist Brett Whiteley was nicked-named Peter Pan. He seemed to have the spirit of eternal youth. He had the playfulness of a pickled boy.At 44 he felt that although his body was aging he still had the same spirit as when he was 14.

When he looked in a mirror he could see a body aging. He could trace the slow ravages of death. In his early 50's he died. He never knew old age. Just the dread.