Today has been busy - I’m working on a new short film concept, wrapping my head around the big picture and central ideas, and working on a first draft of a pitch/concept with the filmmaker.
I can’t say too much at this point, but the questions raised are making me think about the simultaneous fragility and resilience of the human body. Changes over time as we age make some activities (opening a jar, taking the stairs two at a time, getting a full night of uninterrupted sleep) more challenging, and yet - inside we are still lively, strong, and as quick, strong, and smart as we were at 21.
This chasm between the willingness and enthusiasm of the mind and the weaknesses of the declining body haunted Dad. He suffered from an ever-lengthening list of ailments - a bad heart, terrible lungs, breaking bones, poor hearing, and - perhaps worst of all - failing eyesight.
More and more frequently during our regular phonecalls he would sigh and say, “I can’t plan five years down the road any more - and there are so many places I still want to go - things I want to do … In my mind,” he confessed, “I don’t feel old at all.”
And yet, he was - old. That didn’t stop him from working- he was cutting lino, designing new prints, drawing, painting, and printing right up until the day when a massive heart attack took him out.
So what’s the lesson to which I should be paying attention? On the one hand, live hard, do what you love, and never stop striving for whatever it is that makes your heart sing.
On the other hand, some moderation probably helps reduce stress and minimizes the wear and tear on aging body parts. Then again, stressing certain systems makes them stronger, so wrapping oneself in a soft cocoon and watching Netflix on the couch so you don’t wear out your knee joints isn’t the right answer either.
We are damned if we do, damned if we don’t.
My own body whispers increasingly frequent reminders that it’s only a temporary vessel for whatever my essence may be. I’m already down a hip (though the titanium replacement is holding up well so far), have a wobbly elbow (the result of a spectacular double-dislocation caused by a bouldering accident), have arthritis in pretty much every joint, thinning bones, and a digestive system that isn’t nearly as robust as it once was (was that really me who won a pie-eating contest by eating a whole raisin pie at lightning speed? Imagine!! That was a DENSE pie!!)
For me, there is definitely a correlation between aging and creative output. I feel this huge pressure to learn more, make more, do more, and leave something of myself behind. And, no - I have no illusions that my goofy comics hold a candle to the Sistine Chapel, but they will outlive me in the same way that much art outlasts the artist.
I suspect that’s why this new film script project has captured my attention. And…. why I keep showing up here in this Substack day after day - it’s a way to motivate myself to keep working, exploring, experimenting… until, you know, I can’t.
As always, many thanks for reading, sharing, commenting, liking, and all that jazz. For those of you who have subscribed, thank you! It’s so much fun to have you all come along for this weird and wonderful ride, even though I have no idea where we are heading.
Well, I do know we are all heading into the abyss at some point, but the other day someone asked if this Substack would someday become a book. No, I don’t think so. Not in any direct kind of way. I hope some of the raw material will be helpful in creating a graphic novel memoir/bio starring Dad - and, I do have plenty of ‘before she knew how to draw’ content to use, but exactly what will come of all this I’m not exactly sure.
By being here… you will be the first to know.
I read this post first thing this morning, and the poignancy and resonance stayed with me all day. I ached for your father losing his sight and feeling the time passing all too quickly. My own father was drawing almost all the way to the end of his time here.
I took a graphic memoir class (with Sarah Shaw, via SVA—highly recommended!) and met a woman who is also a writer and around my age. We both felt suddenly possessed to make comics, and quickly. Time, we agreed, was doing what time does, and we felt an urgency to create and get our stories out there.
Thank you for sharing all of this with us, Nikki. You're making art in more ways than one.
"For me, there is definitely a correlation between aging and creative output. I feel this huge pressure to learn more, make more, do more, and leave something of myself behind". This sentence really rang true for me, although I don't really feel any pressure to leave something of myself behind.
I have only recently stopped telling myself (and often others too!) that I am not creative... I'd been reflecting on things and thinking about future content for When I'm 64... and realised that having been an actor, an amateur musician and having written on and off over the years that it is silly to deny that I am creative 😆
So, now I really feel the pressure to catch up on years of not doing things because I felt that I couldn't, or shouldn't, and am wishing that I'd had this realisation when I was younger and had more energy and vitality!
I loved 'Staring into the Abyss', thanks so much for posting it 🙏🏽