How to age like an artist

I intend to age like an artist.

Long grey hair winding down my spine; sculpting with my hands rather than someone else sculpting my face.

I will be prim and proper at times: no elbows on the table; swallowing my food before I speak.

And improper, too: loudly debating feminism and philosophy, as food sprays obscenely from my mouth.

I will gather more and more female friends and walk with them as they tell me their stories and desires; about regrets and lost loves.

I will listen, and also talk.

In the summer months, I’ll continue to wear the shortest-shorts, no matter the cellulite situation.

Maybe I’ll return to a bikini too, having spent far too many years hiding my postnatal belly in a swimsuit.

I will make pottery and paintings and poems and love songs.

I’ll create, freely. Because that’s what artists do.

And I’ll share it all with people I know and people I don’t, because art is made to be shared.

Even the secret pieces.

(Mostly the secret pieces.)

I’ll move my body to live music and DJs and playlists I’ve made on Spotify.

And go to festivals, concerts, the ballet and gigs.

I will travel to faraway places to see how other people experience the world, and to experience it with them awhile.

And back home, I’ll make sure every part of my home feels loved.

I’ll rise early, because I’ve been rising early since birth, and I’ll catch the sunrise while drinking coffee.

Perhaps I’ll start making proper coffee, rather than Azera instant.

Maybe I’ll get that wicker rocking chair I’ve had in mind some years, to sit on with a crochet blanket draped across my knees.

Staring at the sky and thinking.

I’ll be doing a lot of thinking.

I will be kind and bold and honest and compassionate.

Boundaried and unboundaried and whatever lies between.

I’ll feel increasingly free and raucous.

I expect I’ll become happier, as I get older.

And stop caring quite so much about what people think.

But I’ll still care, because it’s important to care and to be self-aware.

I’ll wear less make-up, not more.

Letting my face tell the stories of a life well-lived.

I’ll court myself like never before.

And have friends of all different ages.

I’ll swim in ponds and lakes and in the sea.

Sink my toes into the hot sand and gaze at the horizon.

I will live as I age.

I’ll live bigger and better, as time goes by.

Annie x

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Tell me: how do you intend to age?

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Thank you. Ax

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