Me too. Hoping to write something worthwhile, that is.
Hold that thought. You’ve already written a bunch of posts that no one else could have written, Ms. Sled. You could probably mine your blog for a good eBook. — John
I am not any kind of big fat fan of David Brooks, but this offering in a chat feature he shares with Gail Collins made me sit up:
The great art critic Kenneth Clark once wrote an essay on what he called the “old-age style.” He noticed that some artists peak young but others, like Michelangelo, Titian, Rembrandt, Turner and Cézanne, peaked in their elderly years. These artists shared what he called:
A sense of isolation, a feeling of holy rage, developing into what I have called transcendental pessimism; a mistrust of reason, a belief in instinct.
Holy rage? Transcendental pessimism? I’m there. Not sure about the mistrust of reason, but after reading this, I’m clinging to the hope that as I get older, I’ll write something really worthwhile.
Hit the link to the chat; it’s a bagatelle worth your time, over a morning caffeine infusion or while waiting for…
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Living Simply And Still On The Grid 
Ah, I mean really good, as in aspiring to the narrative grip of the novels I treasure and read over and over. I am a severe critic. I’m not sure what sales would be like on a quilt of grumpy rantings about noobs refusing to relinquish the adductor machine…
Thank you for the reblog!
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I agree, might as well set your sights high.
Baseball adage: “Swing hard, in case you accidentally hit the ball.”
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If I ever hit a baseball (softball, tennis ball) it would unquestionably be an accident!
Good philosophy though.
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Careful, some don’t get recognized until they’re dead.
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None of us wants to be recognized as a dead novelist or a dead poet in the near future, or even the medium future. That kind of immortality will have to wait.
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Late 50s hanging around the house with a broken foot and too much idle time. Thanks John for the musings.
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