Unapologetically Me
On aging, freedom, and protecting what matters
Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay
At the end of 2026, I will be the ripe age of seventy-two.
By most people’s standards, I’m old. I’m certainly well into my senior years. And yet, I am having the best year of my life.
Not only am I preparing to marry the love of my life this August after three failed marriages—yes, you read that correctly, three—I’m also awaiting the birth of two grandsons, which will make me grandmother to seven beautiful boys and girls.
And dare I say, perhaps most importantly, I am having the most creative year of my life.
With the exception of the daily notes I post here chronicling the unfolding happening inside Studio 206, my creative life has become profoundly quiet.
I haven’t entered a show in years.
I haven’t matted or framed new work.
I haven’t attended a gallery opening in months.
Some may wonder where I’ve gone. Others may wonder why I stepped away from what once appeared to be a promising art career.
Truthfully, those activities began to shackle me. They tethered me to expectations and obligations that no longer fed my soul.
I have never felt more alive than I do right now.
Since signing the one-year lease on Studio 206 in February, I have become a student again. I spend my days exploring color, composition, texture, stitching, paper, mark-making, and curiosity itself.
I have no desire to open my studio door next week to curious visitors or potential buyers during open studios.
For the past four months, I have lived in a state of delightful oblivion.
Will I ever step fully back into the marketplace again?
I honestly don’t know.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel any urgency to answer that question.
If you asked me today, I’d tell you there’s a decent chance many of these watercolor explorations may someday end up in one of Todd’s campground bonfires somewhere across this country.
Because the work itself is not precious to me.
The process is precious to me.
And I intend to guard that sacred process for as long as I hold the key to this magical little kingdom.



Freedom! I'm thinking it's might be like this expansive opening for lots of new found creativeness and a calming new energy. Inspiring to release more of what gets in the way, the mundane, scheduled repeatedness and in a beautiful place to make it all happen.
Thanks for sharing, Carol. I feel much the same way as I get older.