CROSSING OVER & A COMPARISON

The midlife warnings
once so distant from my ears
ring and deafen me

(Posted at Write Words Writing Club)

I find the mid-life years~particularly the forties~compare easily to the teen years. There is something about these years that seems to contain the turbulent emotions of the volatile teenage years. Enter the incredible highs and the bottom of the barrel lows. The lust to succeed in some way. The zest for living that at times can consume every pore of my body. The self-confidence mingled with self-doubt. Whatever the day, each one holds a magic or a darkness...or perhaps a bit of both. Unpredictable. Undeniable is the urge to leave my imprint somewhere. On something. It is a time of wanting, needing, and expending energy to determine a way to get where I want to be. Need to be.

My winter watercolor art class came to a close. The spring session starts soon, and I told my instructor I would not be back. I do not feel I have the gift to paint well. He told me I was wrong. He was sad. Like a teenager, my mind was made up, and there was no changing it. Of course, I felt terrible that I upset him. I softened it with a hug and told him I loved him to pieces. I need to wander through the world of art in my own way, experimenting with a wider variety of mediums. No rules. I cannot close off the part of me that has to express myself.

This journal will be my playground on occasion. It will be filled with poetry and paintings. Some decent, some hideous, some~hopefully~good. In other words, it will represent me and my quest to find where I think I fit. And gone will be the timidity I often feel about displaying my works here. After all, I am still a work in progress. ::smile::

Speaking of which, there is the most erotic photo of a couple on a beach that I am itching to sketch and paint. Time to begin it.

"Keep true to the dreams of thy youth." ~Friedrich von Schiller