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I have finally succeeded in losing my mind.
I want a tattoo.
On my left hip as that is the sole area which has not succumbed to the forces of gravity. Graffiti on any other part of this aging body, would be subject to sagging and the abominable spell check that results in either an offensive or illegible message.
I want my message to be simple and precise. A small yet treasured motto for the remaining years of my life. A reminder that life is precious, and that youth, despite outward signs of aging, lives on within. To dispel the myth that growing older means slowing down or more unfortunately, fading away.
Youth is not wasted on the young.
I want a tattoo.
On my left hip as that is the sole area which has not succumbed to the forces of gravity. Graffiti on any other part of this aging body, would be subject to sagging and the abominable spell check that results in either an offensive or illegible message.
I want my message to be simple and precise. A small yet treasured motto for the remaining years of my life. A reminder that life is precious, and that youth, despite outward signs of aging, lives on within. To dispel the myth that growing older means slowing down or more unfortunately, fading away.
Youth is not wasted on the young.
Youth lives within the soul and never dies.
Dreams and hopes and wishes can come true no matter the season.
My motto, my symbol, my reminder inked on my left hip, will read…
You have wings. You can fly.
The illustration?
You have wings. You can fly.
The illustration?
A tiny bird with wings outstretched, ready to rise and ride the jet stream to parts yet unknown.
Elder folly? Nonsense. The true gift of aging, is the ability to leave the Past, where it belongs, in the Past. To not mourn what is lost, but to delight in what is given. A new day.
Elder folly? Nonsense. The true gift of aging, is the ability to leave the Past, where it belongs, in the Past. To not mourn what is lost, but to delight in what is given. A new day.
One more chance to feel alive and free to soar anyhow and anywhere we choose.
Flights of fancy, the creative older adult mind knows no limitations. We are not easily bullied. We shrug off the complicated, the mundane, the boring, dull daily routine of following in someone else’s footsteps.
Just for fun.
Flights of fancy, the creative older adult mind knows no limitations. We are not easily bullied. We shrug off the complicated, the mundane, the boring, dull daily routine of following in someone else’s footsteps.
Just for fun.
Go online searching for the one and only,
Iris Apfel
I celebrate her, as she spent her entire life flying above the clouds, well into her 90’s.
She did not only choose her own path, she designed it. Decorated it. Mix and match, collecting and surrounding her herself with tchotchkes that tickled her. Tiny Buddhas to greet the morning, while sipping from a porcelain cup covered in hand painted violets and tiny birds in flight.
I urge you to read her story. Moreover, I implore you to link to her images of her apartment, her personal fashion statements. Her iconic eye wear. Her eclectic eye for the unusual, one of a kind discoveries far from the cookie cutter world where fitting in and thinking alike has led us down a dreary path. Iris flew the coop years ago. Stepped off the well worn path and discovered joy.
I celebrate her, as she spent her entire life flying above the clouds, well into her 90’s.
She did not only choose her own path, she designed it. Decorated it. Mix and match, collecting and surrounding her herself with tchotchkes that tickled her. Tiny Buddhas to greet the morning, while sipping from a porcelain cup covered in hand painted violets and tiny birds in flight.
I urge you to read her story. Moreover, I implore you to link to her images of her apartment, her personal fashion statements. Her iconic eye wear. Her eclectic eye for the unusual, one of a kind discoveries far from the cookie cutter world where fitting in and thinking alike has led us down a dreary path. Iris flew the coop years ago. Stepped off the well worn path and discovered joy.
Fly my dear friends…fly.
If you cannot fly, then flap your wings.
Or make a practice run. Be mysterious, gregarious, outrageous…joyous.
Be Whoever You Have Always Wanted To Be
No matter what your mind whispers to you, you can no longer do…
Do It Anyway
Be Whoever You Have Always Wanted To Be
No matter what your mind whispers to you, you can no longer do…
Do It Anyway
You have wings. You can fly.
Do It In Style!!!!
Do It In Style!!!!
Labels: Flying High In Old Age, Iris Apfel
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