thoughts on turning 56

i have none really. nothing negative at least. it’s a continuation. it’s cool. it’s the opposite of death. birthdays not so momentous for a while, but i remember turning 40 (scott threw a big surprise party, everyone coming from out of town). and now i’m here at 56. sixteen years since i was 40. geez. everything has happened so fast. ok, no. took some time getting through a lot of it. and it was hard. and i felt those minutes, hours, days, etc intensely. but just cause i experienced it mindfully and completely immersed doesn’t mean i remember it now. and that’s the thing. not remembering doesn’t mean it wasn’t important. means i did it already. let’s move forward. but feeling scared about being 56? or old? unsexy? anxious about not looking so young? nope, none of it. would not want to re-live my youth (or even 40), even though a lot of it was really great. a lot of it wasn’t, and i’m so much more at peace now. less wanting and more accepting of myself. so much easier to feel this way than constantly beating yourself up. better. sometimes even think about my body looking ‘good’ without me automatically picturing (if she lost 50 pounds).

so yeah, turning 56. don’t feel the need to have a special birthday. or a special day at all. cause all i want on that day is what i really already have every day. a sense of purpose, love, easily accessible weed, hockey, art surrounding me and thoughts for new art popping into my head at a constant pace, a hot and steamy friend with benefits, working for social justice, loyal and honest friends, my kids (adults) who i love and respect tremendously, a place to live, food to eat. special every day. how lucky am i? 

extra special last week, cause david mitchell released a book. whoo hoo! utopia avenue. watched neil gaiman and mitchell in virtual discussion via Politics & Prose. answered my question about his recurring characters. mitchell looks in a constant state of awe, wonder. a permanent high. his thoughts take a long time to get out, but you know they’ve raced ahead in his mind. so yeah, utopia avenue! loved it. and the reviews say ‘too much’ or chaos-y or scattered. that’s the point of a david mitchell book. you read them for the scatter. fun seeing where he goes with it. what else did the reviews say? trying too hard. reaching when bringing some of the previous characters back. i only thought that with luisa, but this could also just help make her story that much deeper. which is why i need to go back again. to see how right it all fits. that interests me. of course, reddit has charts for referencing (how did the fictional character of luisa become real?). will read this one a second time soon and all his others once again. the second (and third, fourth, fifth) time, no more thrill of watching events unfold. but allows wallowing in the actual way he dances words around events. the language he uses to get that across.

gaiman/mitchell touched on creativity. the constancy. case in point: i can turn any object into something else if i squint my eyes and unfocus. my brain can do that. that is fucking cool. which leads me back to recognizing i’m cool. over the years, happy with myself in some ways, although not on a constant basis. and now, yeah. maybe cause my brain is starting to lose it. fine. i don’t care. if i can be happier in a shorter life span (or less stressed. i think i mean if i could be more chill. zen. state of not wanting anything) instead of alive the other way for longer, i would NO DOUBT choose dying sooner. maybe the reason i was always scared/anxious about being alone? wondered if i’d get bored with myself. but with things now, never bored. the weed has changed since i was 13. me too. all better. 

i do like that feeling of a tiny drop of water coming out your ear. sensual and tickly. 

last week mo and i discussed the relative importance of art versus character of the artist. didn’t start out there, had to get there, part of why i raised the question with mo. their moral clarity helps me understand the spectrum better. sometimes we agree, sometimes we don’t. but their argument is always persuasive. so i guess i’m one of those people who think that in many instances, the art separates from the artist. it stands on its own. yes, it may bring that artist fame and if that happens for a bad dude, it’s a problem (don’t know how to solve that picasso). but once the artist is done with it, i just see the piece as its own entity. and of course there are exceptions. actually, it’s hardly ever black and white. hitler, bad. trump, ugh. but otherwise, it’s a whole spectrum of good and bad, how that good or bad affects your emotional reaction to the piece of art. and where that person lies in the unselfishness spectrum.

speaking of which, is selflessness really the best way? definitely too much me me me and not enough us us us. but always putting other people first? again, why either/or? that’s where i’ve compromised with myself. other people may believe that we should give a higher percentage of ourselves. but i did that for a long time. and now that i have some of putting me first, i like it. and i want to continue doing it. i am not selfless. i am not as good as some want me to be. i’m bound to disappoint, completely human. i did perfectionism for such a long time, now i’m cool leaving it imperfect, as long as i like it. like it enough. in life, in art. will always look at my stuff and see areas needing improvement. but some of my pieces i really really like. i do love the living room light even though it droops on one tentacle. it’s a super cool looking light. i really like my yoga series even though something like it may already be out there. the idea behind it works, but yeah, that might be happy in a sanibel island gift shop. so could the seasons. oh! haven’t shown the seasons yet. here.

first time i’ve made digital art to just make art? think so. not like for a holiday card. did originally create it for public flower boxes in towson. will be on a BG&E electric box instead. cool, huh? maybe my most marketable art, but i liked making them. it was fun. here they are on exhibit at DCAC through october. had them printed on acrylic.

on sale for $175 each or $600 for the set

i like my life. even if there are days during this time (and always really) that it’s hard. that i don’t have the motivation and i just want to lie around, maybe reading. but that’s par for the course over 56 years. i’m really happy to be where i am.