"The years passed. And by 1965 my father began to run out of energy. He may have passed his peak at this time for he also began to lag in output. Whereas once the light in his skylight had been sufficient even in the dark days of winter, or the artificial light would have been preferable to the intense heat of the summer sun, now the dark and gloomy days of the Parisian winter robbed him of his desire to paint. In the winter of '65 and '66 he began to write home such things as: 'I have painted little because of the dark and miserable times' or that he has not painted because of a lack of natural light, 'and it depresses me to paint in an artificial light.' Or then in May of '66: 'I continue to work because it is my only consolation. But at times I lack the energy I once had, and it is not for nothing that the years have passed by, and neither do I have any other stimulus but that which I inject into myself.' And in that following summer he wrote: 'Paris is empty and quiet, and lately I have been working little, spending more time reading or taking a long walk in the calm of the city when the weather permits, for so far we have had a summer of rain and even of cold... '"

From Waiting at the Shore

Not only was he losing his energy but he also began to lose his vision. Here are some examples of the kind of thing he painted in old age.