That Which I Should Have Done I Did Not Do (The Door)

This towering painting, titled with a philosophical phrase, presents a stark, almost confrontational image of a weathered door. The canvas, nearly eight feet tall, is dominated by a decrepit Victorian door, its surface scarred and peeling, flanked by what appears to be a tombstone serving as a threshold. A wrinkled, aged woman's hand, clutching a faded blue handkerchief, rests near the tarnished doorknob, suggesting a moment of hesitation or missed opportunity. The artist, Ivan Puni, considered this his most important picture, meticulously crafting its mesmerizing effect over ten years. He spent weeks collecting the actual props, including the junkyard door and a wax funeral wreath, before embarking on an elaborate charcoal underdrawing. This foundational layer was then covered with the intricate, obsessive detail that defines the painting, with the artist sometimes completing no more than a quarter of a square inch a day. This work serves as a modern memento mori, inviting contemplation on life's choices, regrets, and the passage of time.