Do not go gentle into that good night,
old age should burn and rave at close of day;
rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas (1951)

I’ve just returned from a visit with my friend (and mentor) Jim. He’s now approaching 85 years old and is showing some signs of physical frailty, but is mentally robust as ever. A trip to his home is an immersion into the deep-end of ideas and always an intellectual challenge.

Jim is an extraordinary man who fought with the allies against the Nazi invasion of France. He seldom speaks of his WWII experiences and when he does it is riveting. Most of his stories of that era focus more on time spent at the Sorbonne in Paris, studying French civilization, philosophy, and art history. He moves with alacrity between cultures and has earned the title of being one of “The Greatest Generation.”

He once told me about sitting on a sidewalk café in Paris with friends near his small apartment (his balcony provided a full view of the Eiffel tower), and looking up to catch a glimpse of Greta Garbo strolling by with a gentlemen friend, arm-in-arm. That’s the kind of life he experienced prior to moving back to Oregon, earning his Masters of Art’s degree in English and embarking on a teaching career.

As a life-time artist Jim has an insatiable appetite for creativity. I’ve never once visited his home/studio and not had the delight of seeing some new project in the works. He’s perpetually describing some dream that was the impetus for his latest creation. What’s even more extraordinary is Jim has macular degeneration and his central vision is gone; he is legally blind.

Imagine for a moment loosing your eyesight as an artist and what that could do to your psyche as advanced age sets in. He once told me that he spends more time in meditation and his job now is to remember. But beyond memories, Jim continues to paint and his home is in a constant state of creative flux.

…And the space which is paramount for memory is the house, for it is within that space that we learned how to dream and imagine.
-Heidegger

My Tuesdays With Jim

For a period of time I’d go over to Jim’s house and he would teach me to paint. We’d talk philosophy over coffee—then soon after, place a blank canvas on a small table in his kitchen. With the soft morning sun filtering through the windows onto the awaiting palate, he would instruct me (indirectly) by sharing stories about his past.

Leaving me to my task, he’d mysteriously vanish only to return some time later to visually examine my work. With his head contorted sideways like a flounder, and peering intently inches from the painting, he’d examine the lines, textures, and colors, as I awaited his comments. Later I would tell others that a blind man was teaching me to see.

Creativity and Aging

Creativity and aging is a topic neglected by most gerontologists in the past; as it was traditionally viewed solely as the domain of the first half of life. Human development–especially of the creative variety, was thought to be in decline in old age. The problem is that historically creativity was mistakenly measured as productivity—that is to say, the older the artists the fewer works they produced. This reasoning failed to measure the degree of creativity; rather it equated the amount produced as creativity.

A recent exception is Dr. Gene Cohen who wrote: The Creative Age: Awakening Human Potential In The Second Half Of Life (2000). Cohen defines creativity as bringing something new into existence that’s valued. The definition is a good one; in addition, another aspect of creativity is that it can take you outside of yourself and into the work. The creative process is where the magic happens for many older adults.

Age-related Losses and Creative Meaning Making

The Welsh poet Dylan Thomas wrote his famous stanza for his father who was a robust, militant man all his days until in his eighties when he became blind and weak. So disturbed by the creeping senescence in his father, Thomas tried to invoke him to become the fierce man he once was by telling him to not go gently into that good night; but to rage against the dying of the light (aging and death).

The poet’s attempt to stop his loved one’s decline is understandable; aging by definition means change and loss—that’s undeniable. What’s encouraging however is the potential for creativity at any age.

Jim has not given up painting; rather he has changed his subject matter and style to adjust to his loss of vision; which has taken him into new realms of creativity and an inexhaustible source of renewal. I can always count on him as a source of inspiration.

For creative older adults like Jim meaning is derived not by striving against aging or losses, but by accommodating to them. It is the consciousness born out of the limitations that is the actual source of creative production and meaning-making beyond losses.

Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, suggests “Creative individuals are remarkable for their ability to adapt to almost any situation and to make do with whatever is at hand to reach their goals. If nothing else this distinguishes them from the rest of us.”

See
The Geezer Gallery

The National Center For Creative Aging
Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night

(photo [email protected])

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