Aging In Color

Daring to let our vibrancy show as elders.

I have been recuperating this week from an art show that our local art association puts on annually. Recuperating from the intense labor and time that goes into putting on an art show. Recuperating from what a show can stir up inside me. 

I exhibited some of my paintings, which is always such a vulnerable feeling. As an artist friend of mine once said about showing your work, “That’s your ass hanging up on the wall!” Just what it feels like, I must say.

I didn’t really get into painting much during my time working, and am grateful to be able now, having retired over three years ago, to spend time on my passions of writing and painting. 

As I looked at my exhibit, and looked at some of the others, I noticed that my colors seemed much brighter and more intense. I felt a bit of uncertainty about this. I already feel like such a beginner next to these other artists, most of who have been doing art for much longer than I and have studied much more than I, who have only having taken several adult evening art classes. 

Their paintings were beautiful, I thought, with subtle colors for the most part, skillfully blended and flowing. And here were mine, standing out boldly. Were they too much? Too bright? Not subtle enough? Not sophisticated enough?

 I always loved that saying that fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Was I being a fool showing my work? Was it too much? Was I too much? This is a question that I have asked myself for most of my life. 

 As I walked around and helped with the various booths that we had going on, I found myself very aware of when people might be walking by my paintings, might be stopping to look. 

I noticed, with pleasure, that several children seemed to linger longer at my paintings, especially the paintings of animals, which is one of my favorite subjects. It made them smile, which made me smile. 

We had a slow turnout that day. There were several other festivals going on in the area on the same day and they may have drawn more crowds. Especially Oktoberfest. It’s hard to compete with beer, sausages, and music.

I was amazed once again, as I am each time, how very vulnerable showing art can be. Then again, I have felt that vulnerability most of my life about showing my true self. I have spent much time trying to please or mold myself to what I thought that others needed or wanted me to be. 

Now, as I have entered the sacred realm of elderhood, I find that I am becoming much more comfortable being who I am, stating what I think, disagreeing when I feel the need to, and not caring nearly as much about what others may think. 

This got me thinking. Could I apply this new attitude to my artwork? Might I even learn to appreciate the colors and brightness that I seem drawn to paint? Realize that it’s ok to paint in my style, and not try to compare myself to others? 

Maybe I can finally allow myself to unmute my vivid colors. 

And maybe I can unmute in other ways where I may express myself more vividly than others. Like my intensity, my sensitivity, my personality. Perhaps now is the time to finally, fully, step into me. Step into who I have tried to mute, dampen, soften, hide, or push into the background for all these years. Maybe I can now let the child inside me paint brightly and enjoy it simply as it is. 

Art is such an individual thing, yes? Different people are drawn to different artists and different forms and expressions. Maybe I don’t have to worry about that anymore, don’t have to be afraid to paint my colors, speak my voice, write my soul, and be myself. My Self. 

And maybe I can age in vibrant color as well. While I am still breathing, let my colors flow and glow, even if only for me. Because I am finally beginning to realize that doing something just for me is good enough. 

My colors are one expression of who I am. One that I can learn to appreciate. 

Isn’t it about time we let those parts of ourselves be free? If not now, when?

 So, I will paint and live my elderhood in vivid, bold color. 

Care to join me?