Midnight at Glory’s Bonfire

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Everything changes with age.
When I heard this as a young adult, I thought, “I see that.” You can clearly follow the aging process through pictures of people you know (and don’t). All living things change physically from the moment of conception until death. Easy to see.
Temperments change.
My father rarely turns the vivid shade of purple I could provoke so simply in our younger days. And the Eagles can’t hear him through the television set, anymore, either. Could be he discovered purple wasn’t his color, after all. Maybe it’s because no matter how loud he yelled, the quarterback still refused to listen and it’s just not very exciting when the players continually ignore your wisdom.
Skills change.
They mature, if you are working on them, fade if you choose not to. My cooking has gotten better, some may even say it’s nearly as good as my mom’s (she’s awesome!!). She may have over 60 years of cooking under her belt…wait, that’s wrong, her waistline looks pretty good, over 60 years of experience sounds better & won’t get me in as much trouble.
Styles change.
I’m talking about your style. Not just what society deems is fasionable, or which colors are “in season”, but your own personal style. Could be that your tastes have matured along with your bod or that you can now “aquire a taste” for certain, more grown-up things.

My art has changed.
As a budding artist, I tried to make things look the way they are “supposed” to look, constantly frowning at my work, prodding it along in a direction that was inspired by classic artists. Like I was “supposed” to. It wasn’t much fun, quite honestly. It was more frustrating than anything.
I’m not a renaissance artist, my name is not Michaelangelo or DaVinci. They were the very limited camera’s of thier time. The artists who followed built upon lessons the master’s taught and expanded the artistic horizon with works that borrowed from imagination more so than thier current surroundings. Why wasn’t I doing that?
My favorite books do it, Peter Pan flies, Max sailed “in and out of weeks and almost over a year”, and there would be no Star Trek or Star Wars if imaginations hadn’t been excercized.
So I educated myself a little, researched a lot and came to terms with what I knew all along. When you are enjoying yourself and can loose yourself in your creative process, people can see it and it’s more enjoyable for everyone.
So as I mix up a liquidy splashy acrylic over a dish drainer in my studio, I’m not worried that someone won’t like it. I do not concern myself with the going trends while I drip over canvas, table and shoes. My attention is all caught up in the colors before my eyes and how happy that simple mess makes me feel.

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