NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #30

78 and counting – March 1917

I began writing about the process of aging nine years ago as I approached my 70^th birthday.  Reflecting on the arc of my experience, a pattern seems to be emerging suggesting an evolution in my response to this inevitable process. This 8^th decade can be thought of as a tunnel we must pass through, a little dark and scary in the beginning, but gradually becoming lighter and easier, with the promise of relief at the end. We enter knowing we are still young, and leave knowing we are old.

Some observations from my first 8 years in the tunnel:

1.     A combination of amusement and disbelief that I could be 70 years old.

2.     Confronting the question – What defines old age?

3.     A growing interest in my past – childhood, family, memories

4.     Reaching out to old friends and family

5.     Struggling with my work and with ambition, aspirations, and expectations

6.     Recognizing the physical and mental implications of ageing

7.     Eventually finding old friends becomes less important

8.     Slowly seeing and accepting myself as “old”

9.     Aging gradually transitions from an abstraction to reality.

10. Growing appreciation for the role of fate in determining our future, (There but for the grace of God go I.) and the opportunity to make it this far.

Aging is primarily a physical process. Remaining “young at heart” does

NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #29

COMPRESSING TIME

October 2016

At age 77 I am aware of how compressed the remainder of my life is becoming and the tension this creates within me. There is still work to be done, aspirations to be met, and lofty dreams that refuse to acknowledge a limited future.

The problem is not that I have not done all that I set out to do, but that I continue to discover new paths that I want to travel, and more work that I want to do. My art is slowly improving, but there is so much more to learn.  Forty years ago I promised myself, and my patients, that I would strive to create the best work I am capable of doing, and I have not yet done that…I know I can do better. I recently had the opportunity to see some outstanding art that has inspired me to push the boundaries of my own work. At the same time I saw several pastel paintings of mine that were completed about 15 years ago, and realized I wanted to return to that medium that holds so much promise.

And there is more. I want to write. I am enticed by the satisfaction and fulfillment of conveying an idea, a message, or a memory, using words instead of paint. Writing has become as important to me as my art. Beyond the craft of writing, is the desire to share my story and the lessons life has taught me.  I believe I have something to offer, in spite of the doubts and insecurities that constantly hang over me. 

When I look into all the tomorrows through my rose colored glasses I see books and essays waiting to be written and paintings to be painted, a daunting challenge because I still need my quiet time for reflection as well as my afternoon nap. So much yet to do – so little time – so much insecurity and doubt – so much stress – and I would not trade it for anything. I consider myself fortunate to be right where I am.

NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #28

   TO BE MORE THAN I AM

March 2016

 

 

How do we become the person that we are? How much control do we have in defining ourselves? If we are fortunate, life offers us the opportunity to grow and develop as persons, to become what we were intended to be. The circumstances affecting our lives are many, and their influences range from the most minor, to the most significant: heredity, family, and financial and economic status all play a role, as does the unpredictability of fate.

How do we define ourselves? Occupation, personal beliefs, passionate interests, family, and socio-economic status are some of the criteria we can use, personal choices we much each make for ourselves.

Looking back I see now that I have always wanted to be more than I am. This has been especially true with my art. From the very beginning, I entered our local art world (Wilmington Delaware) with unwarranted boldness and optimism. I had grand ideas for my future that would remain with me for the next 35 years. It would be inaccurate to say that I’ve been driven in pursuit of these aspirations, but I have certainly been committed to be the best that I could be. I imagined my work being represented in several “good” galleries, as well as commercial success that went beyond my local market, and over the years have had a measure of success in this regard.

I can see now that many of my aspirations were naïve and some were unrealistic.  But it was that naivety that allowed me to achieve what success I have had with my art. Now, in the later years of my life, that naivety is tempered with reality, and the new challenge is finding a way to balance these sometimes opposing forces. After 77 years…the piss and vinegar and unbridled optimism and enthusiasm have given way to a more measured version of the same. The goals are not as lofty, but the commitment is still there. Perhaps this is the time to really focus on improving my craftsmanship and pushing at the borders of my comfort zone, in both the art and the writing. ?????