Old Age-isms

Looking toward the January full moon 2025 through the branches of ironwood tree, dead when we moved here.

The subject is aging. Of course, reality--  life is about aging from birth. This, however, will look at old-age aging, what I know about it and do not. To be honest, I have not thought a great deal about it until recently, when I entered my 80s. Now, that is for 'real' old age. How has it impacted me and what do I accept or try to change?

I think the most beautiful women in every sense are those who shrug off their beauty like an old cardigan and get stuck into stuff that really matters.  Liz Jones

 To me, that quote would also fits with aging. When we get old, which I don't believe happens to us at the same time, we have to both accept it and shrug it off. This business of saying, as some do, I am still a child, means that person is trying to miss the section of life that they are actually living.

The problem has been how too many worship youth and attempt to hold onto it at any cost. When a celebrity like Brook Shields lets herself age naturally with, of course, some lotions and potions, but no surgeries, people try to claim she's lost her looks. It encourages others to feel they need to go the cut and pull route. The talk of losing someone's looks begins in their 50s or even earlier. It is equated with old age.

Back in the day, I remember when I heard over the radio that Marilyn Monroe had died, I thought-- well, she was past her beauty prime anyway. She was 36... Of course, I was 18 at that time, an age of ignorance where it comes to what was life all about. I was just at the beginning of finding out.

If I am going to look at age for how we might appear to others, it would be one way, but what if I look at it for our own physical abilities? Well, actually that varies a lot too. If someone is a football hero, 35 is getting old and amazing if they can continue to play into their 40s. Baseball is a little more forgiving of 'old age' except, 40 is not remotely old age.

 

wolf full moon

I began to increasingly lose some of my physical capabilities in my 70s, but just saw Dick VanDyke doing some dance steps at almost 100. He though was not average when he was young if you've seen his performances back then. I did a lot of hiking through my 60s and into early 70s, but today, I don't do any. Is that because I couldn't or that I don't care to? I don't know the answer to that but do feel I've found other things I care more about doing-- like writing.

There are plenty of should do's in my life today but am happy they aren't about mental capacities. Those are still pretty good and for that I am grateful and realize it may not stay that way through my 80s. I haven't worked to stay agile. I still remember my mother-in-law sitting cross legged on the floor when in her late 80s, but she was already losing mental capacities. How much of that is genetics?  What we don't use, we lose. Opps-for me, not hiking.

What about pain? Do us old folks have more pain than younguns? I guess it would depend again on the person. I've had pain all of my adult life for various reasons but nothing catastrophic. Today, I might have more joint pain or in my back, but some I've had in much younger years. I never thought I had arthritis but maybe I will get it. That's the scary part to me of hitting 80, so much more can go wrong. Lots of deep breaths *s*

One thing that I do think relates to growing old, is typical of many elders, is forgetfulness. It comes around many things I always knew and suddenly can't call up when I need the information. For instance in the plant world, hawthorns, which we have at the farm, and i could be looking right at one and not be able to pull up its name. Usually it comes back to me later. If not, the internet is a huge help.

Because my family has familial tremors, which I know runs in families, as could some other things that have challenged me as an old woman. Those tremors might play a role in my lack of stability. When I need to turn from where I might be standing, say at a window, as a young woman I'd have just turned and left; now I reestablish myself before I start to walk. I do not want to fall. I have taken more than a few in my life, some when much younger and more carefree about walking. The thing is, elders end up with more injuries with a fall, sometimes a broken hip requiring major surgery. As for my feeling less stable, I am not going to explore that with a therapist as I actually am okay with the peace I have made with my limitations.

Are we less strong as old folks? It seems logical to be so. We see it in animals of all sorts. We can maybe postpone some of that with the right exercises, but all of it? I doubt it. The body wears out. Vaya con Dios and accept what is. Do what we can do, but accept we can't change it all. I do not believe that is fatalistic. I think it's realistic.

But was I as okay with appearing really elderly when I looked in a mirror or saw a current photo!!! I might have to accept that as reality, but can I do anything about it without major face lifts or Botox, which I have rejected?  

While I might not have a definitive answer, I have recently been thinking about that subject, and been personally trying a few things; hence, it will be the blog next week, at least so far as women are concerned. I think our culture is far more willing to see old men as handsome, more so than old women, can we even see ourselves as beautiful?

 Why all the photos of the full moon and our old ironwood tree? To me, they represent old age, one that won't last and one that at least has always been there. I don't want photos of all the full moons, but always want some, if we can get them, of the Wolf Moon. Ranch Boss used our Canon and a tripod to get these. It's been a month, so far, for photos.

Heading Down the Road -- Or Not

Looking down my list of issues, one of them is very important, perhaps the most important for the difference between our two American parties, and probably the parties in other countries. Immigration. 

Every nation on the earth, with a few small exceptions, was at one time or another, populated by immigrants in one form or the other. Yes, there are peoples who believe they came different ways, like up through a hole in the earth, but they didn't. Those are popular mythologies but reality is adventurers, explorers, and migrants traveled from their homelands to what they regarded as a more hospitable place. 

The exception would be those who evolved where they ended up. There are several of those locations based on archaeology, but most of them also headed elsewhere when the wanderlust overcame them or their current life became undesirable. We don't generally leave places without a reason.

At a certain point, to avoid wars, countries established borders. It gave clear dimensions to a nation and rules for entering, dependent on each country's concerns. This gave stability and a system possible for governing depending on that country's values. Which, is where we are today.

Before I go into the present on immigration issues, here is my history where this is concerned. The Trueax side of my family came long ago to what was known as the New World. They came out of religious persecution.  I don't know when the first on my mother's family came but it was way back to East Coast communities. Way down the lineage, the last immigrants, my great grandparents came from Germany and Scotland. 

When people came, they wanted to be part of this building nation, speak the language, or at least have their children speak it. They wanted to be part of its future. That's what was needed back then for the many diverse directions from which people came. Of course, I know not all originally came because they wanted to be Americans. Some came as slaves. Some to work before going back from where they had come, and others as indentured servants due to debts or crimes.

Personal immigration seems a good place to share a recent photo of myself. I always like to know what the writers I read look like,  so I took this one during my 81st birthday week. This is in our desert house, sitting at my desk. One more picture is coming, after I've written about our modern immigration problem. 

One more thought, off the topic. Aging is what it is and nobody, who is fortunate enough to live to be old, avoids it even if surgeries may seem as though they fool for a while-- not worth it for me. They won't change the things that matter most in life. Nevertheless, not many savor looking old. lol It is what it is, and the old better find other things that matter more, and there are plenty. Someday I'll write about aging but today is for something else.

The issue here on immigration is only about those who did not come in legally. Immigrants can acquire legal status through the government. The US allows in, with a path to citizenship, almost 600,000 immigrants from various countries and walks of life. Yearly, we also have over 300,000 students, and another number yearly, coming in with green cards to work. The latter two generally go home eventually. I got the numbers from this link: https://usafacts.org/articles/how-many-immigrants-are-coming-to-the-us/

The problem is not them but the ones coming illegally, by boat sometimes, but most especially across our southern border. Some claim they are refugees, which they have to prove in a court hearing-- except, not all come back for it. Hence, the country has no idea from where they came, what their skills are, nor do we know if they truly want to be residents. What if their desire is to overthrow the country either by sheer numbers or violence? When you don't know, nobody can guarantee these arrivals are safe-- although it's likely most are.

Another complication is for some reason those here illegally get to cities that claim to be refugee spots and they are given hotel rooms, money, and maybe even jobs of some sort. This is all not for US citizens to know... 

When we have so many already homeless people, with no such comfortable rooms, might not citizens wonder what's really going on with tax revenues. Especially regarding our large homeless problem with people in tents, sleeping with a blanket in parks or on the streets. For those interested in the homeless problem in the US, (most recently, the number  was 653,104)  here are some statistics: https://www.usich.gov/guidance-reports-data/data-trends and https://www.statista.com/chart/24642/total-number-of-homeless-people-in-the-us-by-year/ 

You might wonder why suddenly I am posting links. It's because I read someone saying they wanted to know from where writers got their numbers. I usually said research it like I did, but not that hard to add the sites.

Here is a group that looks at the number of undocumented people living in the United States. It makes clear how much confusion there is figuring it out: https://www.poynter.org/fact-checking/2024/how-many-million-immigrants-america-illegal/

That is the problem, but here is the concern regardless of the numbers. Say we have 11 million here without papers, who are they? Some have worked hard since they got here, took jobs no one wanted, have established families, and value what this country stands for. They are not wanting to overturn the nation. 

As one man said when Victor Davis Hanson asked him at a grocery store, when the professor recognized he was an immigrant, Why did I come here? Well, it wasn't to have it be like Mexico from where I came. That answer said he wanted a stable system without rampant gang activity.

Also most of those who favor open borders don't live in the communities impacted by them with cheaper wages for workers and less housing. The violence is also more of an issue in some areas than others. Most know  about that too.

If you pay attention, you know that gangs from other countries have moved through the US to settle in many communities, including small ones, probably most for drug sales. A lot of their violence is directed at their own communities; so you don't experience that as those people do.

By allowing people to work as undocumented, they often not only get less wages, but so do those competing with them. If an employer can pay someone less and even avoid taxes, there are those who will do it

What is the answer for immigration? In my opinion it is send home the ones who recently breached the system, build a good border fence and have enough agents to protect it. Pay those agents good wages as it's a very tough job.  Then increase the number of people coming in legally to help with the needed work. Keep them fair, not under the table. 

Try to bring in those who value from where this country came, want to keep its best parts, and help improve those parts where it needs work. Encouraging immigrants to learn English, our language, is a good start. They also can, as many have, keep their original languages, but if you don't speak English here, you will have a harder time working for those who don't speak Spanish, etc. and can end up being cheated on wages by some.

So, more legal immigrants on a path to citizenship and way less illegal who we have no idea of their background or intentions. Sending back the ones who cheated in the line might be part of what it takes. Since many of them are being put up at fancy hotels, at government expense, it could save federal and states money.

Do not send back those who have been here a long time with families, having committed no violent crimes, and who have solid jobs. The ones here 10 years or more need to also be on a path to citizenship for their sake and the country's.

Well, I did say one more picture. This is my husband with me taken a few hours after the above one. We celebrated our 60th anniversary in September and both are 81. So far the marriage seems to still be working out well (with, as usual, a few glitches along the way). At our age, we talk a little more about health issues or what about after death-- cremation for both of us. When you get to 80, it feels different than any earlier decades as obviously more likely will go wrong. We try to be positive and both have our strong interests to keep at least our minds alert. *s*

 

Old Age and changes

  

Writing about old age seemed so simple when I thought it was time I addressed it, since I am old. It wasn't so easy, as I began to think of various angles to being old--- not just mine. I put off writing this until the time came when I had to do or it'd not happen, and I had said I would...

The photo above was taken about six months or so before I turned 80. The cat on my printer died not long after. It is with them as it is with us as we age except I don't think they know what aging means as we do. They know they can't do what they once did but not what that means-- or so we think. We know what their death means for us and just hope they have easy time as they cross over.... cross over to what? We have different opinions on that as we do on aging itself.

Not all days does my hair look like that photo. I choose a good hair day as hair is important to us-- male and female. About the time I turned 60, I decided to let my hair go natural. I also decided I would continue to wear it long as I have always liked the feel of long hair. I used to enjoy going to salons for cuts and perms, but didn't want to continue doing that. Long hair simplifies it as I can cut it myself.

So, what are the things about old age that mean I can't do what I once did? One of them is having good balance, hiking or running. I know some have these things but generally because they have to exercise in ways that they needed-- and that's because they aren't younger when it used to be easier.

I mentioned in the previous blog on Aging that I think there are three main life ages. One is youth, which begins with birth. When does it end? Well, likely that's different for most of us. I saw youth behind me when I was in my mid-20s, asked my husband to my legs still look as they used to and he said not so much lol. Don't ask your husband such questions if you don't want the truth. I had lost the roundness of youth. My knees looked different than when a teen, and why not-- I'd had two babies by then.

But after leaving youth behind, with a wistful feel, I entered what I call middle age. For most of us our 30s are actually our strongest years. I thought I was my prettiest then, not that it immediately changed. Middle years are less defined that the growing up years. I think they probably vary for when they end, based on health and other conditions. For me, they sailed by with my 50s, 60s, and into my 70s, as I ,noticed real little change, subtle ones but nothing major.

Then, came my 80s, this year and I accepted, as I had once left behind youth. This was leaving behind middle years for a whole new territory. Old age. I had seen changes along the way like what foods i could eat without consequences, my ability to walk distances, enjoying my photos or even looking in a mirror (where I suddenly looked like one of my aunts-- when did that happen?). I know for some that happens in their 60s but for me not so much as my 70s. Still, though I knew a newspaper would call me elderly if something bad happened, I didn't really feel it. I do now.

What does that mean? There are physical changes where I am not as steady as I once was. I have times I need to put my hands against something solid to feel okay. I fell once in the kitchen when I just crumpled to the ground, with no clue why it happened except I had changed positions from my head down and then arms up as I turned. 

Even more troubling is that I can no longer easily get up from the floor and need something to hold onto. My familial tremors have gotten worse, which complicates many things. I expected this since I had seen my aunt when her head would shake. What I didn't know until recently was that tremors get worse with age.These aren't big things but they are inconvenient. 

When I tried to walk into our vacation trailer, the top step was beyond my ability. I had to sit down to kind of scoot in. That was easy two years ago. 

Unsteadiness is a big deal for me, but it's a reality also that I must accept. Yes, I maybe could do exercises to improve it. I tried that but still just not what it once was.

When I had my last physical, I had lost two inches since being a young adult. Since I don't have arthritis, or not enough to be troubling, I am not sure what that is, Having fallen a few times for assorted reasons, nothing broke, so I am figuring not osteoporosis-- or not much as last tests found that okay.

I do find it harder to remember names sometimes and always wonder-- what is that? When they finally come to me, I wonder why they hadn't. Some say that's normal old age. Maybe storing too much information *s*.

I do more thinking about an unknown future. Anyone knows that our 80s can be a time of more health problems. Other than what I know about family, I don't know what to expect. As with many old folks, death isn't scary to me but it's how I get there that gives me concern. A long illness? Something that impacts my mind?

There are pluses though to getting to experience old age. One is an abundance of memories. I know of those who wish they could still do what they once did. I don't feel that so much as glad I do have those memories and they are rich for me. I did what I wanted to do then and have no regrets that it wasn't otherwise. I have to let that go and look toward what is possible.

Having experienced a wide span of activities, all ones I chose not because i must but because I wanted, my perspective is greater than someone with less memories of what once was not only in ourselves but our culture.

The one thing I can say about old age is, those of us fortunate enough to get here, we must be open to change. It's coming as it did when we grew from children to adults.

For now, my husband and I are blessed to be going through this adventure together as we both turned 80 this year. There is no alternative but to embrace and find new things that make us feel our days are worthwhile. Those won't be the same for all who turn 80-- again, it's about change. In this photo, because he's on his knees behind me, he looks smaller but he's still 6' or so and I'm 5'5" (which irks me as I liked feeling taller-- stretch as I might, I am not getting there).

 

Aging

 

When speaking of aging, I need to begin where it begins with the miracle of life. I call it a miracle because we can't fully understand how it works. We just know it does. I still think of holding my own babies when they were born and knowing they would grow and change with the years.

It sometimes does not work that way but mostly, it does. It is still hard for me to grasp than when they were so tiny, they would grow into who they became. It is life itself and amazing.

I also remember some of my early years but mostly that comes from photographs. As I grew into a child, I remember things I did or saw. I didn't think of myself as an age though. There are times that stand out, like turning 16 and getting a driver's license. Those are mandated by a culture more than our own aging experience. Another big one back then was voting age which was 21 at that time. Again, a culture change more than by our bodies.

Bodily and emotionally, with our growth, came many changes. We go from youth to what could be called middle age or middle years. Once we reach that stage of life, things don't appear to change as much as far as the body goes. We learn, we experience, emotionally and spiritually, we may go through many changes. But middle years continue for a long time. 

In my opinion, our middle years stay physically much the same. There are no gigantic changes as we experienced from babyhood to childhood to those teen years. It's hard to say when youth ends and the middle years begin. They begin as we take on many different roles, but in essence, not so much unless we have health issues. Some of those are a product of our DNA, part about our choices. 

Then, comes a major biological change due to aging. It comes at different times for us based on those earlier choices or from what we were born. It's not the same for us all, as many earlier changes also are. Next blog on my experience with that stage of life, where I have found myself..

health and aging

After writing about my fall, my mind was on things I've learned this last year about my health. It's one of those things I don't generally write about but maybe some of what I've learned will help others as a lot of it I hadn't thought of before.

The one still impacting my life is keeping track of my blood sugar. I always thought if I had problems with it, it'd be heading toward diabetes. Not so. I ended up off and on (some thanks to nightshade intolerance before I realized it) going to hypoglycemia. Fortunately, I never went all the way into the dangerous realm, but when I get down to 70, my body reacts to it by unsteadiness and not feeling well. 

How do I keep it from going there-- small meals and carbs... What I had been doing, because I liked it, was eating a good breakfast and lunch around noon and then not eating much from then through the rest of the day. What I do now is breakfast, mid-morning snack, lunch, mid afternoon snack and a piece of cheese before bed, which for me tends to be between 6 and 7 since I am up before 4 the next morning. If I watched movies or television, I'd likely stay up later. I do not.

The nightshades have been a huge disappointment and some of them were among my favorite foods, like tomatoes, but worse was what is often snuck into processed foods i.e. paprika. If I eat that, I am in bad shape within a day or two.

There was a plus to this. I've lost 50 lbs over the last couple of years and wear jeans 4 sizes smaller than I did. I think maybe the snacks might help with what my last doctor visit revealed that I was low on sodium. Who thinks that could happen given we are not supposed to eat salt! Some of this might be aging as in 2021, I turned 78. I didn't imagine getting that old as at one time I thought I wouldn't live past 30. So goes my age predictions.

The photo is from a month ago right before we took the tree down. I care less about how I look these days than I do about how I feel and how I can move (walking gracefully is a thing of the past but I am settling for being stable :).

 

by Diane: Can't praise my hired handyman enough: my widow's bucket list grows

 by Diane

   Since 2018  when household renovations caused Fisherman Hubby's more and more frustration, as his ALS disease progressed, he tried so very, very hard.  He tried to show he was capable of keeping up with the household maintenance. We seldom hired out help. When we first lived in the house, he poured cement in what was part of a horse's stall in the she shop studio. About 30 years ago we hired a professional to pour a concrete slab under the patio cover. When he would have done the roofing like he did in his younger days, three years ago we hired professional roofers for both the house and the shop.  His yearly upgrades and maintenance projects became smaller.  He would quit before putting tools away and say proudly, "Look what I have done, and I wonder why I am so tired." I quit making To Do Lists.   What could I say when he was firm about no house changes instead we were both proud and happy we could help our children and grandchildren especially so they could get a good education.

      I could not argue when Fisherman Hubby denied that many parts of our property were running down. I believe he knew way before the diagnose that he wouldn't make it much longer. 

        Now I thank Fisherman Hubby for not making great changes to make the house suitable for an invalid who still required one of his boats plus most of his fishing gear, and tools. Now I am spreading myself into what was his sacred spaces.  For decades I took on very willingly the discipline of containment.  I kept my best work, recycling, or repurposing unfinished work, or retiring it to the burn pile. He gave me much space but limited space for me on both the walls of our home and in the storage units he built. The limit helped me to make a stronger body of work.

        Now I can't imagine how we managed to have room enough with two different space usage requirements. I marvel at how quickly my art materials occupy his space. Thanks to my daughters and grandchildren's support plus I am also blessed with a handyman of 35 years experience, David Torres from Eugene. Says he tears out the old as swiftly as a Tasmanian Devil. And this month I will have a  workable studio building separate from the house. A place to do oil painting maybe not just in the summer but all year round.

        About three years ago at one of my high school class reunions, I was asked what was on my bucket list. I remember being  blank. I didn't have a bucket list of my own.  I  truly wanted to do whatever Fisherman Hubby's wishes were. And he wanted to do travel that would make me happy. In 20018 he took on too much for me and fainted from dehydration the night after he was trying to fish over three hours standing out on black lava and I was painting in the shade with the Painting Out There Kona Hawaii Plein Air Painters.

         My bucket list of travel includes going back to Hawaii with my granddaughter McKenzie and Enrique who also like to paint and cook. Another trip to visit a great granddaughter and a visit to Rain. I want to visit family where ever they live.  Another bucket list includes meeting every need in my home so I can age gracefully in place. 

        The advise for grieving widows is to wait a year before making definite life changing plans. But I have a handyman who can remodel my bathroom to be safer now and eventually accommodate a wheel chair. The kitchen can be made safer by demolishing the kitchen sink addition returning to the original wall of the building.  Such happy marvelous decisions so close at hand leaves me with asking is this real.  I like where I am at.

Old age and food

 by Rain Trueax

 

Something that isn't often discussed or at least I haven't come across it is how our body's ability to use food can change with old age. There are probably those who go on their merry way and can eat whatever they want to the end. But that has not proven to the case with me. Old age has made me sometimes almost afraid of food.

aging and releasing

by Rain Trueax

May 2020 and the high temperatures have reached Tucson.

Although I have called myself old for some years, I am only now getting to the age to recognize that being old is about more than looks. It's about changes in ways I had seen with others but not experienced until more recently. It is about accepting change and moving where it leads if one wants to have a happy old age-- one not filled with regrets and even bitterness. It means accepting what is and making the most of it. 

by Diane: New Decade/ New Year's look at my life as an artist

 Before considering my resolutions, this decade, this year, I question my life as a practicing artist. In my current stage of life going on 77 years of age in 2020, I consider my age and the changing of our living location or remaking our home to suit our needs - an expected soon to be reality.  Plus all the conditions of the world around me need to be considered. Putting aside immediate issues for awhile, I consider some hypothetical possibilities far from my reality.
      How would I practice art if I was a Yellow Hat Tibetan Monk? Will such an improbable question stimulate an enlightened goal?


What is missing from the monk's painting paraphernalia?
 No rags? No large container of water to clean brushes?
No container of many brushes?
Only a thermos for his tea and another for water to add to his paint?
Only stir sticks in paint pots to keep paint at the exactly right creamy consistency.
Are the sticks in each color pot tipped with a brush head down in the paint?
Do I remember a few hand made brushes?
 If he uses a different brush for each color, the purity of his colors would be maintained
without contaminating cleaning water or rag. He will not contaminate the environment.
His method insures no waste of precious mineral colors.
Can a brush remain in a gouache type paint without ever being cleaned?
Did he paint with sticks?
Do I see a receptacle for scraping off and collecting excessive paint before applyication?
Knowing his exact working method does not matter.
I have an idea of how I can change my work space process.
 

      I remember my first impression of the artist monk August 13, 2002, at the Drepung Monastery in China, Tibet. Seeing his fascination with my sketches and pen, I handed him a brush pen that I was using. He wanted to try it and I gave it to him for keeps. In my sketch book he drew a self portrait. Later at home I painted Pintolanden ( my poor phonetic spelling of his name). I clearly remember my impression because when I came home, I painted him. His studio was rich in color. I was impressed how cozy he was in stark contrast to the desolate landscape outside. Above all I wanted to work from color pots like his.

The monk's drawing of himself.
 I never explored the meaning of his pose.
Or the meaning of his Buddhist name.

My painting reflects how suited his work space was
to making Thangkas. It should be an ideal space
for meditative, spiritual painting
but I saw this space was impacted
by the world of soda pop and clutter of
plastic bags from recent shopping.
Over his robes he wore a sweater
and under his robes - sweat pants.
He had Western style running shoes.
 On the floor was an open paperback book.
Possibly a corrupting novel?
 

        Historically monks painted meditatively soothed by repeating the same traditional details with minimal need to make independent choices. All their colors were spread out in little pots so they could paint continuously without interruptions to prepare the next color. So impressed, was I that I found a couple of clam shell plastic boxes in which I put  a quarter cup of each acrylic color. I grouped colors that I often mix together. Spritzing them with water whenever they start to dry, these colors remained workable for months. Now I see much more that I can use from the monk's art process.

       On a deeper level, I was impressed in 2002 by the impact of the world on the Tibetan painter, "Pintoladen". He was not isolated from the world.  Tourists like me must be interrupting his work rhythm. He was making thangkas not just for the monastery and local Buddhists but for tourists who may or may not be on a Buddhist spiritual journey. The sale of his work along with other spiritual items made at the monastery supported the monastery in today's world driven by money. Today's world is not perfect.  Neither would returning to a theocracy be better. In by gone ages, the peasants provided for the the ruling monastery.Now it is moneyfrom maybe the Chinese government and tourists.

        At home in 2002  I failed to think of our core similarities and differences until now when I watched a film about a Buddhist convert. Next Wednesday's post will be a review of "A Buddhist with a Camera".

In the next couple of Wednesday posts,
 I will update what kind of art and how I make my work space
comfortable and workable.

    

Transitions

by Rain Trueax

Rain Rock Casino-- Yreka, California

Holy Mackerel, what is going on with time? It seems we just got home with a blog to share but now, time to write another one. Ack. 

Mostly the days after we got home have been about unpacking (a lot goes between homes) and then rearranging the house. When we are gone (with current agreement), our son lives here sometimes with his boys. He takes care of the livestock; and although in town, he has a duplex, he tends to be out here the most due to the needs of the animals. He then, of course, arranges things to suit himself. We come home and have to arrange it to suit ourselves. This business of sharing a home may not work long term for him or us. We are all feeling our way through it. One way or another, change has to come.

change to Golden Gate Road

by Rain Trueax

Have I mentioned too many times that I don't like change. I am a creature of habit. I like what I like. But constantly I am bombarded by change. Life is change. So when I came across a new one this week, I was not pleased.

life and death

by Rain Trueax
 

There is one given in life and really only one. Once we are born, we will die. Now some believe only the body dies. The soul lives on for the body to be resurrected (not sure in what form but sounds like it'd be good. The Apostle Paul said without that resurrection, Christians were being fooled). Whatever the case, of an afterlife, our current bodies do die. While that might seem a ways off for some, it's closer for others-- like the aged. What does it mean?

by Diane Widler Wenzel: Aging and changes in my handwriting

My writing in 1954



My writing in 2019

 A small detail from a book stood out as confirmation of what I thought happened in my own doings.
          One such observation is from the novel, THE WEIGHT OF INK by Rachel Kadish. A British history scholar observes  more rounded hand writing is an indication of youth.
          THE WEIGHT OF INK, by Rachel Kadish is a fictional novel about two educated woman.   One is a 21st century British scholar of Jewish history.  The other is a 17 th century scribe who took on a man's name to write letters to well known philosophers. She had to hide her identity as a women because women were not given a voice in educated conversation. Her personal writing and life touched on a deep level the woman history scholar who was the first to see the documents in 2003. Though she was leading the first examination of the letters,  academic politics made recognition of women very difficult. One reason the handwriting made the documents powerfully real to her was the handwriting. Through the changes in the heaviness of the ink's application, a record is made of  the smooth speed or hesitations of the writer.
          In order to confirm my own youthful rounded hand is actually more rounded than my mature pointy hand, I looked through samples of my own handwriting. I was surprised at not being able to confirm my own suppositions.  The fountain pen  I used in 1954 left a better record than the state of the art Pentel Roch'n Write which is made to make my writing more evenly consistent.
          The conclusion: My handwriting is now more evenly slanted than when I was 11 years old. The letters are closer together but just as rounded.  Not age but the stress of a busy life effected my writing when I was daily chauferring my children in competitive roller skating.  At the same time I sent many letters to aging parents and relatives, while working in an art studio away from home. My handwriting was smaller with more space between lines.

From a letter to my parents May 16, 1984

 

From copied lecture notes June 1964

At Portland State College I had much more leisure time than 1984

 

Aging-- gracefully or not

by Rain Trueax

 Image from Stencil. 

No, it's not me but isn't that a great old face as she looks at a barren and dried up world. All she's experienced is seen through those eyes-- maybe,as she's getting closer to it, also what she sees of the other side.

There are reasons I come back to the topic of aging-- sometimes it's a lifestyle change, but it can simply be looking in the mirror. As people move into old age, some try to hide the numbers. I guess, that's fear of being devalued for being old. This is a cultural thing as it's not that way everywhere or even years back in my own culture.

The word elderly has its own connotations. I remember reading articles where the 'elderly' person in it was 63 or so. When does elderly begin? I would guess by 75, my age, or is it more than a number? I went looking and found varying opinions for elderly. This article on NPR seemed pretty good-- if you want to be politically correct about it. [An Age-Old Problem].

by Diane Widler Wenzel; Review of Agnes Varda's film, "The Gleaners and I"

Gleaners are everywhere sifting through harvested fields and looking through dumpsters to name two gleaning sites. But I had not thought about them until I watched a Netflix video. Agnes Varda's "The Gleaners and I".   It was filmed in 2000 when she was 72 years old.  She is well known in France as a pioneer in the New Wave films. She is a feminist and activist. The theme of the "The Gleaners and I" was our society is wasteful of food, manufactured products and without words she communicated that she felt she was a discarded senior.
In Oregon the art of gleaning is an art in the best of health.

Don gleaning firewood from dying trees  about 8 years ago

About 19 years ago Don chopping wood  gleaned 
from neighbor's diseased trees.
 

Varda believes all roles in making a film should work together. Cinematographer, screenwriter, director, etc. working simultaneously to create a more cohesive film, and all elements of the film should contribute to its message. at first I was puzzled by what appeared to me as disconnected.She combined pictures of her old hands and gray hair with interviews of people from all backgrounds eating and collecting agricultural waste and urban garbage. It was a real stretch for me to associate Verda with societies discards. She intended to say society makes older people discards and that she proves how wrong society is?

 But what was most interesting to me was the creative process of some of the gleaners who were performing or visual artists or lived creatively.

It is fun picking up glass and other micro-trash on our neighborhood roadways and then make an assemblage.

When your body can talk to you

by Rain Trueax

Our life depends on our body continuing to function. Kind of a basic truth. Years back, I was interested in meditation as a way to keep track of how my body was doing. Deep breaths, blocking out my thinking, meditative scripts, music, lots of ways to quiet the brain, and listen to the body. 

Mostly, being aware of our body involves noticing what in the beginning might be subtle changes. Losing/gaining weight? Yellowed skin? Long-lasting, unexplained pain? Digestive disorders? Skin changes? Breathing difficulties? 

For most of us, we'd just as soon not have to think about something going wrong. Reality is-- the earlier we recognize a symptom is significant, the more likely it can be fixed. 

Many people depend on yearly checkups, mammograms, colonoscopies, and other tests in the doctor's office that might find a problem before symptoms.

There happen to be home tools that can help our body talk back to us. For young folks, this may not be an issue as there are years when we don't worry about things going wrong. The older we get, the more that changes.

Crossroads

by Rain Trueax

When you reach a crossroads in your life, how do you decide which road to take? 

As children, choices are made for us most of the time. When we reach young adulthood, that changes. We have to decide whether to go to college, then which college, or is military a better fit, how about traveling for a few years and putting it all off? For most of our adult lives, we will be looking at choices, some of which are minor like what to eat, whether to exercise, who to spend time with, but then come big ones-- with whom to build a family. That one can only be topped by deciding to break up a family. 

Today, my husband and I are looking at a crossroads which involves where would it be best to spend the next say 10 years. At 75, we can expect to live independently at least that much longer, but where to do that. Some move into retirement communities, where services will be provided as needed. Others get an RV and begin to travel figuring they won't get another chance. 

As we age, our choices can be impacted by-- do we need to be closer to doctors, stores, services, or would being reclusive out in the mountains be a better choice? What can we afford factors into where we might end up.  What worked for us in our 60s may not in our 80s. It's a constant flow of choices. Many of them we don't even think of as choices that will lead to something else.

Some of the choices others make have little appeal for me and never did. There are choices I've made that never again required rethinking-- like having children. A lot of life though is cyclical-- and one choice comes around again as circumstances change.

The immediate issue I am wrestling with is we have two homes-- one for nearly 40 years and the other for almost 20. It seems unrealistic in our senior years to keep them both as they are 1200 miles apart. They offer very different advantages and complications. I've considered dumping them both and moving somewhere else-- but where would that be? I am a huge lover of the American West. I could imagine living many places from the ocean to the Rockies. Would a new place be a better fit than one where we have long lived? Adventure or security?

I've recently spent a lot of time wrestling with this question of change as I enter into genuine old age. I don't have an answer. Do you have a way you work through such times?

 Photos altered by Dreamscope. It's a way of illustrating how we can see the same thing but angle changes everything-- a bit like life.

More on Aging

by Rain Trueax

Recently, we watched a three part series on Netflix-- [Five Came Back]. Take the time to watch it as it was excellent. Yes, it has some brutal segments about WWII (if you want to think Nazis were okay you definitely need to watch the Holocaust photos). It reminded me how much each generation is influenced by the time in which it has grown up. The archival film is of five successful directors of that time and not only their participation in the war but also what they brought back from it in terms of the films they then made.

Born in WWII, I know it impacted my life in a ton of ways-- not only by it but the aftermath for what people learned from it. Because my family had gone through the Great Depression, and talked about it, it also was a factor in what I was taught growing up. This is one of the benefits of reaching old age-- we've seen a lot.

Along with aging's reality of loss and deterioration (biology-wise), there are benefits that I don't think many consider. In the United States, sadly the emphasis seems to be holding onto youth. What about considering the benefits of a long lifespan? Why do so many demean old age? 
 
In some primitive cultures, the old are revered. They are the ones who remember the dry seasons, what might matter when the herds travel another route, diseases that came through and proved devastating. 

Do we really believe that a seventeen year old today knows more than someone who has lived seventy years? Can life wisdom be valued instead of demeaned as so often happens with the elderly thought of as being selfish or senile? Could it be that having seen so many cultural shifts, the old have something to share with the young? This will only happen if the old value what they have experienced.

Culturally, we, at least in my generation, have lived through a lot of changes. I was born when communication was newspapers, mail, radio, movies, and party-line telephone. News was gathered from limited sources and mostly we knew our own community and family for sure-- if that. Living through a time like that puts a unique perspective on a time like ours where news is from so many sources that many end up victims of ADD (attention deficit disorder). Today, we are bombarded by info-- or what defines itself as such.

Family expectations have changed in my 70+ years. I grew up when children were expected to be polite, where the world didn't revolve around them, where adults talked and children listened-- or went off to play. The idea of coming to a time where profanity is praised and someone who is nasty is admired is beyond me to imagine from the perspective of my own youth. Being old means I remember when nasty was not a virtue but a problem.

In my childhood, we were allowed to be a child and adulthood was something to be worked toward and hopefully achieved. Responsibility was taught  through chores and sometimes rewarded by an allowance. I don't know if that still exists but I do know receiving a small amount of money for doing a job teaches responsibility. Not having much money teaches the value of making responsible choices.

Another plus of being a child in an earlier era is we were allowed freedoms that today are criticized by some as they call such to be free range kids. We all were back then. 

Examples: I was able to run over open fields, go into the brush and lie there as

I stared up at the sky. I read books sitting in a big cherry tree, ran to a rock wall to escape a sheep that wanted to butt me. I had my first rifle at 12 because I asked for it as my Christmas present, because I'd seen our sheep with their sides ripped out by dogs and wanted to protect them.

One year, my father, brother and I went to a mountain stream. While they fished, I waded down that stream by myself, climbing over logs, finding spider webs everywhere and finally overcoming my fear of breaking through them. Although I was far from any hope of my parent rescuing me if something went wrong, I relished the freedom. When I wanted to learn to swim, it was on a river and I did it staying in the shallows until I could

feel confident I could swim across. When I did it the first time though, my father swam alongside me. The only time I ever saw him swim. From then on I could do it by myself. The memories of those times and reaching the rocks on the other side, they are always with me as are so many others from those years.

I am not saying children today couldn't experience such things. Some do... Just not as many as back then.

As an old person, I have seen societal changes. Nothing lasts forever is something the old understand better than the young. Having seen a lot of mistakes and successes, I don't think I know it all-- even if I am confident I know a lot.

Less is expected of me as an old woman. That's freeing. We can do what

pleases us more than in those earlier years. When we opt to take on challenges, it's our choice. When some of those challenges lead to failures, we can still feel excited-- like who knew we could do something like that in our 70s. At one time, being old meant moving in with the kids, to an Old Folks Home, or after Social Security, retired. Now it means anything goes-- at least that our bodies allow.

A few years back, I took some time to write my core beliefs. Recently, I came across them and looked them over. I wouldn't add to the list. Have you written down your core beliefs? The things on which you stand? I put them in a blog where I archived some of my earlier blogs (there was a blog before this one). If you're interested, they are at [Age Old Beauty]. 

That's another thing I believe-- that like fine wines or old roses, there is a beauty in old age. It's not the same as youthful beauty but it has a worn patina to it that I consider it's own beauty. If we don't do plastic surgery, our life shows on our face-- the good parts and the painful ones.

 The birds are all from observations at our Tucson home. We had to add the fence for when the cats are out as they regard the fountain as a 'moveable feast.' Watching birds is one of the joys that is possible at any age. I love how they migrate, how they instinctively know when to go and where. Life is really something.

on getting old

by Rain Trueax

After last week on changes, I thought discussing aging would be good. I don't spend a lot of time being introspective. I did more of that in younger years. Still, it's good to stop and think where I am in life. The blog is a good place to ponder that.

Old age is about change. Obviously, changes happen throughout life but more in youth and old age. Even what some consider to be old actually isn't that big a deal for us all. My sixties were more like my fifties or forties. 

Now, midway into my seventies, I see more differences in appearance and physical abilities. Some want to deny they are old-- I'm a child inside, they argue. Words have meaning or need to. If we deny old has meaning, then does young?

Not all of the changes in old age necessarily come from aging, of course. Diseases can impact our bodies. Weight gain, which I mainly began to experience in my late 60s, can be more of an impact than years. When I was younger, if I gained weight, never as much as now, it spread evenly over me.

Now I have a belly and while i know it's unhealthy, more so than just being fat, it's where it went-- thank you lack of exercise, eating what I shouldn't, and of course, hormones. One thing about aging is-- you can cheat with less consequences when you are young than you can once you get old...

When we are children, changes come all the time. Those hormones kick in and the changes became massive. For most of us, it establishes us as as a gender more than childhood even. When I see my grandchildren, who are mostly still in puberty with one out the other side barely and the youngest just getting into it, they change all the time. Deeper voices, bodies shifting into what they will be as adults. It's an exciting time.

On the other hand, when in old age, there are also changes that are a factor of parts wearing out but also hormones. There is more pain in joints as most of us will get arthritis to one level or another. It takes more to get in shape if we get out of it. Looks change with thinner skin and sags where it never had. This makes us look different than our middle years. Little by little, men and women resemble each other more than in those mid-years. Little old ladies and little old men acquire more similar bodies-- for those who get old enough.


Thinking about death is necessary with our elder years. To be responsible, we should prepare for our inabilities and especially for our demise. What do we want done with this body we have occupied for so many years but eventually will not be able to continue to use? I am choosing cremation but not sure where I want the ashes put.

We will have more friends who die and the older we get, the more that will be true. We don't have to be depressed about it but it's obvious at 75 that there are less years ahead than behind-- and those years will be ones of deterioration and loss. For anyone who lives into deep old age, the body begins to shut down. Disease takes many of us ahead of that.

For those of us who have inherited physical problems, those can worsen with old age. My familial tremors have become more of a disability in my 70s than they had been although they've long been with me. i knew to expect that as I'd seen it in the family. Reality but we don't have to be thrilled by it.

Old age and what it brings with it is a reality. Accept reality and live it fully-- where it is, that's what I consider to be fully living. I don't tend to think back over what was unless I have to. I know I had better years than others but why dwell on either. Be where you are is my philosophy; and although it's not particularly joyful to realize I actually look old lol, it's reality and where I am. Everybody gets there if they live long enough. I know some think they fool it by plastic surgery. I think they just look plastic especially if they take it too far. We have to release what was to fully be who we are and where we are.

For those of you, who are younger, this will be a reality but not for you now. My advice, from where I sit, is do what I did, when I was younger, figure out what things you want to do, what you are still capable of doing, and do them. If that means changes, calculate the cost. 

The book I recommended in the last blog is a good one for mid years-- In the Meantime. It moves you toward living where you want to be, not putting up with what isn't giving you that life. Change isn't always a bad thing. It is always a reality.

At my age, especially as a writer, but as an old woman, I do a lot of observing of life. The photos here are from our Tucson  home. I believe the simple and small things are often the best.