Life Stories

For Christmas and birthdays, I, like many people, received cards from loved ones. After retirement, I noticed several relatives wrote a page or two, documenting incidents from their life. It seemed to me that, in their eighties and nineties, some folks became thoughtful and wanted others to know what their significant experiences had been. This made sense to me, and I greatly valued these reflections as they covered fascinating eras: the roaring twenties, the depression, WWII, the dawning of the nuclear age and of air travel for the middle class. The outpouring from people I loved made me wonder if I should start writing my own epics. 

I felt no such need. Why not? I fit in the right age range to start ruminating, in my mid-seventies. However, when I thought about reflecting on an overview of my years, I stopped because I felt too ensconced in life’s roller-coaster to stand aside and observe. I found myself still evolving and my existence hadn’t coalesced into a cohesive story yet.

Two years ago, a New York art gallery began to exhibit my ink drawings. With three or more shows a year, life has been hectic. I’m doing what I love, but it’s a new, formative stage and I’m deeply involved in making new artwork.

My adult child has had a tumultuous few years which have been both creative and difficult for him. I’m fortunate that he talks to me about what’s going on and we can brainstorm together. A lot of my emotional energy goes to him and his transformations.

During the last two years, I moved because of allergies from trees near my old condo. The move was a big success. I now have the energy to commit to new artwork and my evolution with my son. Next, I relocated my art studio (a one-bedroom condo) to a more convenient space: this effort also proved beneficial. I’ve spent a couple of years adjusting to the new environments in my home and workspace.

As I settle into better places, adapt to exciting opportunities with my drawings, and enjoy being an active mother, it’s not a reflective time. I’m in the tumult of change and loving it. Right now, it seems that large waves are building around me. I feel as though I’m bobbing among the ocean giants, intent on catching a wave, surfing it and seeing where it’ll take me.

In the future, if fate bestows enough years to me, I hope to enjoy days of reflection once I know where the big waves took me. If all goes well, I’ll have time to share my stories with my loved ones when I make landfall and am able to clearly view the trajectory I traveled.

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