“It is never too late to be what you might have been.”
~ George Eliot
I never really had a vision for my life beyond the age of
65. For some odd reason, I couldn't imagine that there would be a great deal to
look forward to after that and so I approached that birthday with dread even
though I'd already begun to write again, had two books of poetry in print and
had posted a few moderately decent photographs on a number of art sites.
Somebody asked me what it was like to be "competing" with younger
artists and writers at my age and my first thought was, "Well, hell, I
can't answer that because I'm not in the same league at all and I'm awfully old
to begin pursuing such a ridiculous dream as becoming an writer/artist
now."
But then I realized that I wasn't alone in coming late and
unschooled to the field of art and that it wasn't about competition for me at
all. It was about finding my voice,
finding some means of expressing
who I've discovered myself to be at 60+, what I find beautiful, what has value
to me, what has helped me to grow spiritually and emotionally...some way to say
what it all means. Still, even with that revelation, it didn't occur to me to
consider myself a photographer or an artist. I clung to my old Sony 3 megapixel
point and shoot for ages, learned nothing about aperture or shutter speed,
white balance or any of the technicalities behind fine photography. I did
eventually grow up to a 14 megapixel Canon with incredible zoom but I still
knew nothing about photography and it was still point and shoot.
And then something magical happened...instead of learning
all the technical ins and outs about my camera or taking a class in
photography, someone whose work I admired as ART introduced me to photo editing
and I fell in love immediately with the possibilities. I was willing to spend
the time, the energy, the practice and sometimes the frustration on learning
that process. Then...I found Wacom and Corel Painter and digital painting and
realized I could turn my less than brilliant photographs into art - not by
applying a texture alone but by painting from scratch just as I'd done in the
few acrylics I'd tried in my early 40s - but now I could paint without the
mess!
Everything I loved - the sea particularly, the rolling hills
and creeks of Western New York, the beautiful flowers in my garden sprang to
life in full color with the help of that magical pen. Perhaps I'd never be the
digital Renoir, but I'd found a means of expression I never thought I could
have and I found ways and places to share the joy of that when I wanted to. It
wasn't about competition now...I no longer felt the need to compare myself and
my art to what others were doing or even question why their work sold and mine
didn't. Art and the new poetry it inspires me to write have become a part of
who I am now - not just something I do as a hobby or out of boredom. Every
single day, I try something new, learn something new and I never get tired of
it. Sometimes I post it...more often than not I don't but I've reached some
goal for that day, taught myself something different than yesterday and that's
what makes me forget that I'm going to be 68 in a few weeks. I don't bother
much with real mirrors anymore - my digital canvases have become my reflection
in the world.
So...it really never is too late to become the artist,
craftsman, writer or photographer you were meant to be and the reward is
immeasurable too - a new self-respect, a new "love" for self that
helps to overcome loss or sadness that inevitably shadows our later years. So
dream big and believe in yourself and at every age, realize there is so much
more to try. Take that from an old gal who's going to try to give Grandma Moses
a run for her money!!
Background texture
adapted from one by Pamela Phelps
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