Please register to participate in our discussions with 2 million other members - it's free and quick! Some forums can only be seen by registered members. After you create your account, you'll be able to customize options and access all our 15,000 new posts/day with fewer ads.
Thanks for an interesting thread NEGirl. In extreme serendipity, I watched a fascinating interview with Clive James last night who is racing to finish a couple of books including a translation of Dante's Inferno before his terminal illness stops everything. Maybe too Australian to make it to US but worth watching if you can find it. In relation to this thread, he is one of the extremes who would find ceasing to breathe almost the same as ceasing to write.
Same with authors Henry Miller, who took up painting I believe in his 80s, and Flannery O'Connor who had lupus and wrote through all her hospital stays right to the end.
I think part of my feeling of loss is that when younger, there were others to hang out with and talk about art and art philosophy, to show our work to, and to have a slight competitive edge with (all bad grammar here). We visited each others' studios and openings and went to each others' readings and other events. We were young and it was a whole parallel world to be in together. Now, it would be more of a singular endeavor, as I've gotten way out of the artistic social loop.
In cleaning out recently, I found one copy (the only copy) of a book I had printed on my own printing press in a rented studio down near Faneuil Hall in Boston (cheap!!). I had handset the type and did the linocuts. I was amazed looking at this, thinking in what lifetime did I do such a fine piece of work? Where did the passion come from at such a young age? I doubt I could even do that type of thing again, or even have the energy to.
I had a spurt of printmaking several years ago in a local studio. It was expensive taking the workshops and then paying the monthly use fee. It was expensive buying the materials and framing. Everyone who comes here admires the pieces. But if I'm not up to exhibiting and marketing at this stage, if I continue I'm only going to accumulate more and more physical "things" in a time I want to eliminate things and live a responsibility-free life. I think I am admitting that I'm feeling lazy. Caladium is right about my choice. I think I need an attitude adjustment!
Maybe it feels more like a "responsibility" to carry these endeavors through to the end just because I am good at them.
Why would you feel a "responsibility" for continuing to do paintings? Responsible to whom? I can see feeling responsible for continuing to do some sort of charity work, because then other people are affected by the work you do. Ask yourself: who will be harmed if you stop painting? Do you really feel you owe it to the world to keep producing paintings? I'm sure there are people who enjoy looking at what you paint, but you're not responsible to them--and trust me, if you stop painting they will enjoy looking at someone else's work just as much. The only person who will care if you paint or you don't is you--so if you're not enjoying it anymore, give yourself permission to stop.
When I was set to retire at the end of the year, in 2006, I bought a travel trailer. My Dad had traveled extensively in his motor home after he retired, and I was anxious to emulate his lifestyle when I retired. We were only to travel in it for a year and a half in it before my Father fell into bad health, and we had to park it. After my Dad passed we ended up moving out of state, and finally selling the trailer. All the people we had told that we were going to travel after I retired couldn't comprehend that our circumstances had changed. I think that we change our desires, and dreams as life changes as well. Traveling was something we liked, and did early in our lives, when we could, and it seemed to build to a climax the closer I got to retirement. But now, we don't have that drive to fight the maddening crowds, and only travel sporadically. We just open each day, and see what it brings. No pressure. Like someone else posted, " Wherever you go, there you are!"
What Color is Your Parachute in Retirement has some good, well thought out advice to help one sort out what they want to do with the rest of their lives.
I think if you have to ask 'what's the point?' it's probably time to find another creative outlet.
To me, that's what retirement is. A lot of people talk travel. They're looking for change-to see/experience different.
For me, I want to stay put. The 'different' I'm looking for is in myself and my creations, whatever they are. recognition isn't nor has ever been anything I've aspired to or envied.
I think if accumulation of prints or canvases became a problem, they could be donated to a favorite charity for it's next fundraiser. They could be placed in a silent auction or a raffle and think of all the good you would do. Someone would get something beautiful for their home or office, the charity gets funds to do their work, you get the fun/satisfaction of creating, and a nifty tax write-off is the icing on the cake. If it's not considered too mercenary, you could even gear your creation to the charity, say a painting of a beloved pet or touching animal scene could be donated to an animal shelter auction, etc.
Personally I think many change their minds on what is important in life thru the stages they go thru in life. Ambition to do or get to top grows less for most I know as they age and change their views. Its the same as change ;most seem to not like change as much as they age. My wifes cousin is a artist. I know she says she much more likes to be involved with the community thru her art than the crowd she use to hangout with of other artist when young. She is much more into the reality of making a good living thru it now. She said she has just seen to many of her former friends go thru a lot of problems based on not seeing it as a talent to make a living with. Now she makes a very good living at it.
I must have the most ambitious, high-energy, highly-productive, and healthy retired girlfriends on the planet.
These gals in their sixties and seventies are first time writers getting published, winning tennis and ski tournaments, making big bucks in galleries, running for political office, creating new non profit organizations, etc etc. I am the slug of the group. And it took me a few years to stop feeling guilty over not keeping up with them and all their amazing goals and achievements since retiring. They are a wonderful and inspiring group.
My friends and I thought in retirement my art would really take off because I finally had the time. But after huge resistance came up over their well-meaning pressure to get "out there" in shows and galleries, I finally realized my only REAL retirement goal was to live a more peaceful, relaxed, and simple life. Whenever possible, I just let each day be what it will. I don't make To Do lists or have high-tech day planners and calendars anymore.
This morning as I was getting my coffee, I noticed the huge zucchini from the garden on the counter, and got excited about making zucchini bread, and that's how half the day went--spontaneous, fun, and fulfilling. But nothing to brag about...lol
So I don't spend nearly the time in my studio I thought I would, but when there, it is from a pure desire and not the pressured "shoulds."
Thankfully, my husband (who previously was type-A and very goal achieving)is of the same retirement makeup as I am, and enjoys a nice quiet walk in the country without needing to make it some marathon hike on an exotic mountain somewhere.
I've done a lot of interesting things, met a lot of personal goals. But just because I know how to do those things and am good at them, doesn't mean I HAVE to keep doing them.
This morning as I was getting my coffee, I noticed the huge zucchini from the garden on the counter, and got excited about making zucchini bread, and that's how half the day went--spontaneous, fun, and fulfilling. But nothing to brag about...lol
Ahh, that sounds like a wonderful day. Don't agree that a day like that is nothing to brag about--in fact,maybe those are the best days to brag about. I've always loved hearing about everyday life experiences like that. Days like you had today are the real joy of retirement, IMO.
I liked what you said about getting rid of the "shoulds." Someone once told me that if you find yourself getting caught up in one of those "should-y" attitudes, ask yourself what you would do each day if nobody else knew what you were up to. If you had nobody to impress. There's a lot of wisdom in that.
In other words, would you be enjoying the whole day making zucchini bread? Great! Then that's what you should be doing! Or may your idea of fun is doing lots of things? That's great too! Just be sure you're doing those things because you enjoy them and not because you think you should be doing lots of things. Do you want to spend an entire day reading literary works? Wonderful, but again--it's only wonderful if you're enjoying reading those books. If you're doing it in hopes that other people will be impressed, then it's a waste of time. Trust me, nobody really cares. Same thing goes for enjoying a day of doing nothing at all. Some people feel guilty doing that. Why? As long as you're being true to yourself and doing what you'd really enjoy doing that day, it's all good.
Last edited by Caladium; 09-05-2013 at 04:04 PM..
Please register to post and access all features of our very popular forum. It is free and quick. Over $68,000 in prizes has already been given out to active posters on our forum. Additional giveaways are planned.
Detailed information about all U.S. cities, counties, and zip codes on our site: City-data.com.
Please register to participate in our discussions with 2 million other members - it's free and quick! Some forums can only be seen by registered members. After you create your account, you'll be able to customize options and access all our 15,000 new posts/day with fewer ads.
Don't agree that a day like that is nothing to brag about--in fact,maybe those are the best days to brag about. I've always loved hearing about everyday life experiences like that. Days like you had today are the real joy of retirement, IMO. 
