I'm not sure I trust Archie White when he says he wants to retire. He made news last summer when he graduated from East Sussex College with a fine art degree.

He was 96 years and 56 days old, just missing breaking a new world record for the oldest graduate by a few months.

Graduation was just the start. He says, "I'm pretty busy all the time."

He's a former solicitor who still works as a consultant and is "painting furiously to meet the demands of studios." In addition, he is working with East Sussex College to co-found GradAid, a charity.

White went to a degree show as a student and bought "a delightful piece of pottery." When he flipped it over to examine the underside, he was surprised to discover that the artist had left no marks on the base – “no name or date” – for anyone interested in purchasing more.

Graduates were left without much forward assistance or "notion of professional help... [Many students] don't have space for a studio, no money to hire or rent one." He claims that without help, “they are lost, to the detriment of society... It's cruel of us not to consider their futures.”

To that aim, he has worked out a deal with East Sussex College to provide graduates with studio space and equipment for a few years. Not everyone has the luxury of converting a spare bedroom into an art studio, as White did at his flat in Rye, near the south coast.

He enjoys sitting in front of the window and painting what he sees - “the river, the people passing by.” His crimson slacks are splashed with oil paint to the point of being multicolored.

It doesn't sound too far removed from his early artistic pursuits: as a youngster, he went on treks into the Devon countryside with his older sister, Kitty, using watercolour paints. With their pochade boxes of paints and collapsible seats, they would go for the day to the neighboring reservoir, whose slopes were carpeted with pink orchids in spring, or to Steps bridge over the river Dart (White's favorite), or to Sir Francis Drake's house.

“Everywhere we went, it was beautiful.”

Yet, as White toiled as a lawyer for decades, art faded from his consciousness. After selling his practice, he and his late wife Joan "decided to splurge our capital and tour the world," and he picked up a sketchbook at the age of 72.

He sketched or took photographs of their journeys, including the Drake Passage, a piece of water at Chile's southern tip that may have reminded him of his watercolour expeditions with Kitty.

So, why did he return to art after such a long time? “It was simply because I had never lost it before,” he explains.

“It's possible that the art I did as a kid was a strong memory that motivated me without my realizing it.” Before White picked up the paintbrushes again, Kitty, a costume and stage designer, died. He claims, "She had no idea I was painting."

“That is an intriguing thought.”

Two East Sussex galleries are now interested in selling White's paintings. “Every canvas,” he explains, “is an experience on the road to professionalism.”

Has a degree in fine art, on the other hand, made a difference to him? He responds, "I suppose it means I've accomplished something."

“I don't believe it is the responsibility of a university to change people. Unless it's for the purpose of broadening their horizons or understanding.”

GradAid's founding is, presumably, confirmation of it. “However, the more you learn, the more you'll realize how insignificant you are.”

White says his life has been "a lovely life," and I'm curious what else he wants to do except start the foundation. “I don't know what I want, but I do know that I require a significant amount of additional time.”

Thanks to Paula Cocozza at The Guardian whose reporting provided the original basis for this story.