A couple of weeks ago, I made a reel for Instagram (I've started feeling more comfortable with those) about my transition from fearing aging and running out of time to accepting the inevitability of that timeline.
In the reel, I spoke about a recent trip to the hospital—ambulance and all—and the very nice paramedics reporting that I was a "70-year-old female." I wondered who they were referring to... it surely couldn't be me! How did I get so old, so fast?
Over the past few years, I've had a sense of running out of time. I need to create more and more, quicker and quicker. I'll never finish everything I want to make, and I am so afraid of that!
I realized that fear was about the future—looking forward into something I couldn't control. By dwelling on both the unpredictability and the inevitable, it robbed me of the joy of the present. It took some further thinking and writing (morning pages) and time in my studio to turn that attitude into mindfulness of the present.
If I am in fear, I am not creating from my heart and soul but from a place of emptiness and loss. That surely cannot be the work I want to make. True, many artists can create from that place—art that makes statements of despair and anguish—powerful and lasting. But I don't think that's the place where I want to create. While I don't want my art to be happy and frilly, I hope to make art that is meaningful first to myself and then potentially to someone else.
All this gives me two anchor points to work with....
First, be in the present moment when I am creating—be mindful and connected with my materials, processes, and techniques, acknowledging that I am so fortunate to be gifted with all this, and that I have enough time, whatever that might be.
Second, make meaningful art from my heart a priority, expressing my doubts and hopes in abundance. Yes, make the small fun pieces as well, but find them a place in my practice that does not dominate.
In the end, by exploring and expressing with my art, I build and create a little bit of meaning each day. Each piece becomes a small act of presence—not a race against time, but a conversation with it. Perhaps then, my art becomes not just what I leave behind, but how I choose to inhabit each moment I'm given.
Thank you for stopping by...the images are from a series titled "Timeless Moments" I focused on mark making and collage using acrylic links and adding some asemic text - marks which resemble text but are unreadable and have no meaning. I love the meditative process of sitting quietly and letting my hands move across the paper.
The vintage paper is from a scrapbook I found after my father had died, he had collected memorabilia from his time overseas during WWll. Some of the items include photos of women he might have dated (?), some telegrams between himself and his brother, also serving overseas (Elvin never returned) and also a court summons for have the light on while driving his motorcycle...remember there was blackout everywhere!
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your art pieces. It has been a pleasure and a great inspiration for me to view your art and read your thoughts about aging and the lack of control we suddenly feel with progressing age. You are so right we have to embrace the gifts we were born with.
I’m grateful that it resonated with you. I keep reminding myself to embrace each day as a gift.
Thank you for your inspirational blog. I am 81 this year and have had to give up significant activities in recent years, like my kayak. My textile work gets slower and slower. I have all the fibres and dyes I need to try out acid dyeing so I will get to a long-planned piece with my embellisher . Your writing is encouraging me to get moving on something new however it turns out. Thank-you, Susan!
Gillian, wonderful to hear from you, I remember how important your kayak trips have been….but onto new ways of celebrating our art with your embellisher!
Very thoughtful piece or us older artists. We are so very fortunate to be able to do what we do. Being present and engaged takes us to another world. Love that space. But some days it is hard to slow down and some days hard to get focused. It is all to be accepted. Thanks for your words.
Karen, wise words, we need to embrace all the joys in the present time.