Newly retired, Mark Gozonsky has decided it's not too late to live out one of his rock-and-roll fantasies. PLUS, an open thread for sharing about our own later-in-life creative pursuits.
At 56, I will be celebrating my first book being published, a picture book called Mud to the Rescue! How Animals Use Mud to Thrive and Survive. Having been an on-again, off-again freelance writer for thirty years while raising my three daughters, I dove into writing for children after a friend encouraged me to join her in this endeavor. At the time, little was available for newbies, so I taught myself and joined groups as they formed online, took classes and webinars when they finally became more widely available, and basically stumbled along. When I discovered Mary Oliver's poetry, I knew I had found my ideal writing style of free verse poetry, and that's when my career finally took off (about six years ago). I won a mentorship with a famous children's poet, then found my agent, expanded my career, and finally sold my first book in 2023 (the timeline from sale to publication in children's literature is often two to four years). Today, I'm signing more book contracts and feel I've finally reached a new stage in my life, one which allows me to pursue this career for decades to come.
While I have read many of the Oldster interviews. the "Different Drummer" immediately caught my eye. I started taking djembe drum classes two years ago -- at age 72. I love it. While I'll never be part of a rock band, I am trying to learn Phil Collins drum solo in his song "In the Air."
This endeavor followed some of my other "old age" pursuits. Ar age 50, with death on my mind having recovered from lymphoma, I decided that I needed to take dance classes. It was one of those things I always wanted to do, but never did,. I spent the next 20 years taking modern dance and African dance. Like my drumming career, I got better but never got good. So what.
In July I published my first book, "Bouncing Back: How Women Lose & Find Themselves in Marriage & Divorce." I'm a psychologist by profession, and I wanted to gather together my thoughts about my personal life and what I had learned during my career. This was another big accomplishment. My book received the 2024 Gold Global Book Award for self-help motivational books, and lots of readers have loved it.
Right before my dad died, he said that he wasn't afraid to die because he had lived a "full." I think I try all these different creative outlets, because I want to follow in his footsteps and say that I had a full life, too.
I like your thinking on the page, and I will go looking for your book at the library. You are an accomplished person, and later in life, it's not about the competition, I think, for me anyway, its about just doing whatever I want to try. so thank you for all of that encouragement. Rock on
Thanks very much. I'm an avid library goer, too. I think my book is only in the libraries near where I live. The e-book is only $.99 on Amazon. I don't enjoy self-promotion but I have discovered it comes with the territory when you write a book.
I do! And I love that Rhythm Bliss has 4 classes a week (online). I rarely do all of them because I don't have the time. One of these days I will find a local drum circle.
“In the Air” is THE solo. I hope your joyous pursuit continues.
My own model-to-learn-from is Hal Blaine’s drumming on “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes
Someone else in this thread was talking about Mary Oliver. One of my main takeaways from her craft book is the value of imitation, not so much for getting it “right,” but for the inspiration.
When I was 5, I wanted to be a Motown backup singer. I have a talent to hear the harmoniesand be able to sing them, and I wanted to wear a sparkly dress and sway and sing. We were watching The Supremes on Ed Sullivan, and I said this out loud. My mother and her sisters told me immediately that this was impossible: 1) I was white and 2) I could never be good enough. When I was 8, I wanted to be an author. I was again told I wasn't good enough, only 1 in a million people get a book published. When I was 15, I wanted to be a rock star, and joined a garage band. I had to quit almost immediately, because my mother wouldn't let me "parade around on a stage singing those horrible songs" and because I couldn't possibly be successful in a music career, only 1 in a million, etc.
I believed them. For a long time, I only sang in the car on my commutes, because my first husband told me he wanted to hear the radio, not me. I threw away everything I wrote (because like singing, I wrote all the time) because I knew it wasn't good enough.
At age 35, after my divorce, I met a man who was a professional musician. He encouraged me to go to karaoke to try singing in front of an audience. I won my first trophy ever at a karaoke contest later that year. At age 40, I joined his blues band as a "featured girl singer" and lived the life of a rock star for a few years. At age 50, I wrote my first book (Mama Mary's Rules for Daughters) and self-published. And a few months ago, at age 64, I finished my first full-length documentary film (Follow the Triptik, available for screening on Kinema.) While making the movie, I learned how to put songs together in GarageBand, and composed the music for the film. I'm now doing pre-production work for our next documentary project.
I've been saying "Dreams denied can be dreams deferred," and convinced one of my friends to take up drums at 60. They had always wanted to play drums, and everyone told them "no," so after some life-changing health problems, they agreed with me that our parents didn't know best what was in our hearts, and is proselytizing to all their friends about following your dreams before it's too late.
I’m one gray hair’s width away from 76, which means next month I will have lived for seventy-six full years. A birthday marks how long you have already been around, not, as we think, indicating the age you are headed into. I noticed this phenomenon a couple of years ago. It was like moving the clock ahead at the beginning of daylight’s savings time in the spring. I suddenly lost a whole year in my mind.
Mind you, by the time I hit seventy, I had taken on a few new skills. At 52, I learned to ride a motorcycle and rode that HOG all over the country for the next decade or so. It was physically arduous, as I’m not exactly athletic by nature, and it was my way of telling menopause to fuck off. I also finished a Bachelor’s Degree at the same time and poured my soul into the discovery of creative non-fiction and poetry. I took up veggie gardening, tending a 20 X 40-foot plot as if my survival depended on it. Good thing it didn’t. Growing your own food is hard work.
Most significantly, I immersed myself into writing at all levels—joining writer’s groups, taking workshops from the many talented writers living in the HV, donating time and creative energy to a few non-profit organizations, learning to produce saleable work for local publications, and attempting to master the computer and online technology that was necessary for all these activities. It has been an engaging challenge, a great learning experience. It has altogether altered who I think I am.
In my activities with non-profits, I eagerly facilitated writing workshops, one that met weekly for many years. This, too, was rewarding. It was an apprenticeship of sorts—for what, I wasn’t sure. Then the Big Slowdown of COVID had me reevaluating myself. Gazing at my future seventies as the world, life itself, was being affected so radically had me wondering if I still could consider myself at all creative and productive. What did I have left at this age to contribute?
I’d long dreamed of becoming an author of a best-selling memoir. This is not a report about how I finally achieved that goal. But somewhere along the way of dabbling in journalism and editing others’ work and simply being with writers of all sorts and talents, a new kernel of a dream took hold. I realized that I have the nascent ability to inspire people. And I decided to pursue doing it professionally.
And after months, years of yearning to get some basic training in such a profession as it relates to writing, I finally invested in my new career. Just last summer I became a certified workshop leader through Amherst Writers & Artists, a non-profit organization that promotes creative self-expression through a very safe, positive method of conducting writing groups. It took me those months and years of butting up against my own uncertainties—am I smart enough, courageous enough, worthy of being paid enough to throw myself into this—to actually enroll in the training and complete it successfully.
My life is not yet over, I’ve discovered. Since last June, I have worked this new gig with a couple dozen eager folks who just want to write their lives and find out what it’s all about. My now sold-out workshops are validating my worth with a modest income, and more importantly, placing me joyfully into the miraculous swirl of human creativity. It’s the ultimate reward. It’s what we’re all here for.
I am 71, I retired 2 years ago from my psychotherapy practice of 37 years. Since retiring, i have dived into exploring my creative interests: writing poetry, photography, certamics, collage, painting and drawing, and encaustics. I call myself the “Passionate Dabbler.” My sister has made a living as a professional artist, and even though she is supportive of my creativity, i always called her “The Real Artist” and described myself as “playing around with art.” I am happy to say I am now comfortable calling myself an artist! I recently broke two bones in my knee, and am housebound for 2 montes, and I would say art has saved my life, as I am completely happy sitting in my chair, painting and drawing.
Ten years ago this week, when I was 52, I took my very first guitar lesson, something I had wanted to and was terrified to do my entire sentient life. In retrospect, the teacher was pretty mediocre and undemanding (I was his oldest student by about 40 years) but I was determined and dedicated and learned a lot on my own. After a couple of years of that I won an electric bass in an online contest and taught myself the rudiments using what I'd learned in guitar lessons and online. Fast forward to today: I'm in a band that plays festivals and Porch Fests and local charity events and I am having a blast :) I've never stuck with an avocation this long; this is my calling.
Now 61, in my late 40s, I started taking piano lessons after a 30+-year hiatus. I had dreamed of making that happen my entire adult life but there never seemed to be time or disposable income. Eventually, my piano teacher suggested I think about being in a band his music school was putting together with other moms and I jumped at the chance. After several personnel changes, that band has evolved into my current band, Misspent Youth, three guys in their 60s, and me. I now play bass guitar more than keyboards and we rotate lead vocals. We’ve been together over a decade. Just a few weeks ago, after much deliberation, we decided to go out on our own and shed the comfort and safety of our music school. We are now booking our own rehearsal time at a local studio and will be booking our own gigs as well. And we no longer have a coach/instructor. Having a creative outlet like this has been a joy. And while we are a bit nervous about taking off on our own, it’s been liberating and exciting.
That's great! What song do you rock most on vocals? I once heard a Oldster in Manchester New Hampshire completely killing "I'm wasted and I can't find my way home." WIll never forget the heartfeltedness.
I didn’t mention earlier that I loved your essay. We keep coming back to What’s Up (4 Nonblondes). And Deathly by Aimee Mann. More recently, working on Sheryl Crowe’s version of Sweet Child ‘O Mine. I also love harmonizing on backup vocals.
Hey Mark! Drumming is life and it’s the most primal and validating way to speak. Les Paul says “Music is the space between the notes.” I add to that, “When in doubt, lay out.”
I’m 58 and started playing bass at 52, vocals at 56, and drums at 57. One thing that has jump-started these musical interests is an Austin musical collective called the Old Phukkerz. The collective has over 300 members, about 50 active ones, from all skill levels. We play 70s, 80s, 90s punk, new wave, and alternative cover songs. We have a show about every 4 months. Interested members add songs to and sign up for songs on a setlist. Newcomers are encouraged to participate, and musicians are encouraged to try new instruments. We have a few rehearsals. The goal of the show is having fun — not musical perfection —although some people do a stellar job! Venues like us because we have so many people attend (most in the band), and we’re well-behaved and buy adult beverages.
This is the rare example of Austin being BETTER than it was 30 years ago, when me and my wife lived there. I would love to join in a collective like that in LA or Chicago or northwest Connecticut, any of my places.
I absolutely love the Old Phukkerz! It’s so open, supportive, and fun. And, people from the collective have gotten together and formed other bands. I’ve gotten together with a group that’s writing a rock opera. 😄 Fortunately, Austin has lots of small venues (in book stores, coffee shops, etc.) where local bands can play.
Weight lifting. Hadn't lifted since college. Back then, I was the only woman in the gym. Slow and steady progression these days. It has been an amazing process to become stronger. I've also started crocheting. With age comes patience. Thank goodness! Currently learning to make a hearts garland for Valentine's Day and, so far, my hearts are wonky. Perhaps for the best.
Writing. I started and stopped a dozen times in my 50s before I began to take it seriously. What prevented me was realizing that out of the gate, I was a REALLY crappy writer. But for some reason, I couldn't let the story or the characters that lived in my head go. To give it a go, I got up at 3 am before work and wrote...and then of course--I would periodically give it up again thinking--WTAF? Why are you sacrificing writing something that will likely never get published. It wasn't until I gave myself the permission to not listen to those pesky inner voices, to just keep going regardless of the outcome, that I FINALLY began to find joy in the process of writing.
Drumming as well! I started a couple of years ago at 51. I have a lot of creative pursuits (mixed media art, fiber arts, slow stitching) including Middle Eastern dance. As Lisa said I am a dabbler but also a pro and art saved my life. From 47-51 I ran a women's transformational studio using art and creativity as a healing process. I always loved the drums, AND I always loved drummers. I went into deep mourning when Taylor Hawkins died. I wanted to learn how to play the rhythms I have danced to for years. So I primarily play frame drum, darkbuka and djembe, and got a drum kit last year so I can rock out (I am still very green on the kit). I play drums for their (evidence-based) healing capabilities, and have completed a training on facilitating drum circles for healing. I also study with Alexandra Jai who has a wonderful (all levels) Afro-cuban drumming online program called Rhythm Bliss.
Mark, also a later-in-life drummer here, and yes, once "Strangers" gets into your head, it won't get out. (I'm all about anything with a heavy floor tom.)
this message is encouraging and grounded in your thoughts of now. I spent years living with a drummer, and while it worked, it was fun. my real me is as a photographer and filmmaker. I wasn't the on-stage guy /gal but the one who captured the goings-on. I, too, have come to a place of acceptance from my days of going for what I wanted. I got that IT, and now I am looking for support for a documentary, but that's not why I am responding to you. I just want to say good for you, and I think you're on the only track for us older and accomplished beings to be this way. Bravo!
At 56, I will be celebrating my first book being published, a picture book called Mud to the Rescue! How Animals Use Mud to Thrive and Survive. Having been an on-again, off-again freelance writer for thirty years while raising my three daughters, I dove into writing for children after a friend encouraged me to join her in this endeavor. At the time, little was available for newbies, so I taught myself and joined groups as they formed online, took classes and webinars when they finally became more widely available, and basically stumbled along. When I discovered Mary Oliver's poetry, I knew I had found my ideal writing style of free verse poetry, and that's when my career finally took off (about six years ago). I won a mentorship with a famous children's poet, then found my agent, expanded my career, and finally sold my first book in 2023 (the timeline from sale to publication in children's literature is often two to four years). Today, I'm signing more book contracts and feel I've finally reached a new stage in my life, one which allows me to pursue this career for decades to come.
Wonderful! My first solo book was published when I was 56, too. Congrats.
That's a great story. Congrats on your achievements.
I am reading Mary Oliver's Poetry handbook rn. Illuminating!
I love Mary Oliver!!!
While I have read many of the Oldster interviews. the "Different Drummer" immediately caught my eye. I started taking djembe drum classes two years ago -- at age 72. I love it. While I'll never be part of a rock band, I am trying to learn Phil Collins drum solo in his song "In the Air."
This endeavor followed some of my other "old age" pursuits. Ar age 50, with death on my mind having recovered from lymphoma, I decided that I needed to take dance classes. It was one of those things I always wanted to do, but never did,. I spent the next 20 years taking modern dance and African dance. Like my drumming career, I got better but never got good. So what.
In July I published my first book, "Bouncing Back: How Women Lose & Find Themselves in Marriage & Divorce." I'm a psychologist by profession, and I wanted to gather together my thoughts about my personal life and what I had learned during my career. This was another big accomplishment. My book received the 2024 Gold Global Book Award for self-help motivational books, and lots of readers have loved it.
Right before my dad died, he said that he wasn't afraid to die because he had lived a "full." I think I try all these different creative outlets, because I want to follow in his footsteps and say that I had a full life, too.
I like your thinking on the page, and I will go looking for your book at the library. You are an accomplished person, and later in life, it's not about the competition, I think, for me anyway, its about just doing whatever I want to try. so thank you for all of that encouragement. Rock on
Thanks very much. I'm an avid library goer, too. I think my book is only in the libraries near where I live. The e-book is only $.99 on Amazon. I don't enjoy self-promotion but I have discovered it comes with the territory when you write a book.
I started djembe around 3 years ago at 50! And I am a dancer as well. (I have been since 3 years old, so I wanted to learn to play the rhythms)
At this point, my drum class is one of the highlights of my week. It is pure joy. I hope you find that, too.
I do! And I love that Rhythm Bliss has 4 classes a week (online). I rarely do all of them because I don't have the time. One of these days I will find a local drum circle.
“In the Air” is THE solo. I hope your joyous pursuit continues.
My own model-to-learn-from is Hal Blaine’s drumming on “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes
Someone else in this thread was talking about Mary Oliver. One of my main takeaways from her craft book is the value of imitation, not so much for getting it “right,” but for the inspiration.
Thanks for the tip.
I love all this, Ellen. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you.
When I was 5, I wanted to be a Motown backup singer. I have a talent to hear the harmoniesand be able to sing them, and I wanted to wear a sparkly dress and sway and sing. We were watching The Supremes on Ed Sullivan, and I said this out loud. My mother and her sisters told me immediately that this was impossible: 1) I was white and 2) I could never be good enough. When I was 8, I wanted to be an author. I was again told I wasn't good enough, only 1 in a million people get a book published. When I was 15, I wanted to be a rock star, and joined a garage band. I had to quit almost immediately, because my mother wouldn't let me "parade around on a stage singing those horrible songs" and because I couldn't possibly be successful in a music career, only 1 in a million, etc.
I believed them. For a long time, I only sang in the car on my commutes, because my first husband told me he wanted to hear the radio, not me. I threw away everything I wrote (because like singing, I wrote all the time) because I knew it wasn't good enough.
At age 35, after my divorce, I met a man who was a professional musician. He encouraged me to go to karaoke to try singing in front of an audience. I won my first trophy ever at a karaoke contest later that year. At age 40, I joined his blues band as a "featured girl singer" and lived the life of a rock star for a few years. At age 50, I wrote my first book (Mama Mary's Rules for Daughters) and self-published. And a few months ago, at age 64, I finished my first full-length documentary film (Follow the Triptik, available for screening on Kinema.) While making the movie, I learned how to put songs together in GarageBand, and composed the music for the film. I'm now doing pre-production work for our next documentary project.
I've been saying "Dreams denied can be dreams deferred," and convinced one of my friends to take up drums at 60. They had always wanted to play drums, and everyone told them "no," so after some life-changing health problems, they agreed with me that our parents didn't know best what was in our hearts, and is proselytizing to all their friends about following your dreams before it's too late.
Thank you for posting this! This is a poignant call to action for all who were dismissed or diminished to find new people and go for it!!
Late in Life Endeavors
I’m one gray hair’s width away from 76, which means next month I will have lived for seventy-six full years. A birthday marks how long you have already been around, not, as we think, indicating the age you are headed into. I noticed this phenomenon a couple of years ago. It was like moving the clock ahead at the beginning of daylight’s savings time in the spring. I suddenly lost a whole year in my mind.
Mind you, by the time I hit seventy, I had taken on a few new skills. At 52, I learned to ride a motorcycle and rode that HOG all over the country for the next decade or so. It was physically arduous, as I’m not exactly athletic by nature, and it was my way of telling menopause to fuck off. I also finished a Bachelor’s Degree at the same time and poured my soul into the discovery of creative non-fiction and poetry. I took up veggie gardening, tending a 20 X 40-foot plot as if my survival depended on it. Good thing it didn’t. Growing your own food is hard work.
Most significantly, I immersed myself into writing at all levels—joining writer’s groups, taking workshops from the many talented writers living in the HV, donating time and creative energy to a few non-profit organizations, learning to produce saleable work for local publications, and attempting to master the computer and online technology that was necessary for all these activities. It has been an engaging challenge, a great learning experience. It has altogether altered who I think I am.
In my activities with non-profits, I eagerly facilitated writing workshops, one that met weekly for many years. This, too, was rewarding. It was an apprenticeship of sorts—for what, I wasn’t sure. Then the Big Slowdown of COVID had me reevaluating myself. Gazing at my future seventies as the world, life itself, was being affected so radically had me wondering if I still could consider myself at all creative and productive. What did I have left at this age to contribute?
I’d long dreamed of becoming an author of a best-selling memoir. This is not a report about how I finally achieved that goal. But somewhere along the way of dabbling in journalism and editing others’ work and simply being with writers of all sorts and talents, a new kernel of a dream took hold. I realized that I have the nascent ability to inspire people. And I decided to pursue doing it professionally.
And after months, years of yearning to get some basic training in such a profession as it relates to writing, I finally invested in my new career. Just last summer I became a certified workshop leader through Amherst Writers & Artists, a non-profit organization that promotes creative self-expression through a very safe, positive method of conducting writing groups. It took me those months and years of butting up against my own uncertainties—am I smart enough, courageous enough, worthy of being paid enough to throw myself into this—to actually enroll in the training and complete it successfully.
My life is not yet over, I’ve discovered. Since last June, I have worked this new gig with a couple dozen eager folks who just want to write their lives and find out what it’s all about. My now sold-out workshops are validating my worth with a modest income, and more importantly, placing me joyfully into the miraculous swirl of human creativity. It’s the ultimate reward. It’s what we’re all here for.
Awesome, Ann. Happy almost 76th!
I am 71, I retired 2 years ago from my psychotherapy practice of 37 years. Since retiring, i have dived into exploring my creative interests: writing poetry, photography, certamics, collage, painting and drawing, and encaustics. I call myself the “Passionate Dabbler.” My sister has made a living as a professional artist, and even though she is supportive of my creativity, i always called her “The Real Artist” and described myself as “playing around with art.” I am happy to say I am now comfortable calling myself an artist! I recently broke two bones in my knee, and am housebound for 2 montes, and I would say art has saved my life, as I am completely happy sitting in my chair, painting and drawing.
Saving yourself through art and play -- that's great!
Singing! I joined Encore Creativity for Older adults - a national choir organization with groups in many states. Rock and chorale.
Encorecreativity.org - can tell you more about it if there’s interest.
Oh, how nice. I’ll check it out!
Ten years ago this week, when I was 52, I took my very first guitar lesson, something I had wanted to and was terrified to do my entire sentient life. In retrospect, the teacher was pretty mediocre and undemanding (I was his oldest student by about 40 years) but I was determined and dedicated and learned a lot on my own. After a couple of years of that I won an electric bass in an online contest and taught myself the rudiments using what I'd learned in guitar lessons and online. Fast forward to today: I'm in a band that plays festivals and Porch Fests and local charity events and I am having a blast :) I've never stuck with an avocation this long; this is my calling.
Now 61, in my late 40s, I started taking piano lessons after a 30+-year hiatus. I had dreamed of making that happen my entire adult life but there never seemed to be time or disposable income. Eventually, my piano teacher suggested I think about being in a band his music school was putting together with other moms and I jumped at the chance. After several personnel changes, that band has evolved into my current band, Misspent Youth, three guys in their 60s, and me. I now play bass guitar more than keyboards and we rotate lead vocals. We’ve been together over a decade. Just a few weeks ago, after much deliberation, we decided to go out on our own and shed the comfort and safety of our music school. We are now booking our own rehearsal time at a local studio and will be booking our own gigs as well. And we no longer have a coach/instructor. Having a creative outlet like this has been a joy. And while we are a bit nervous about taking off on our own, it’s been liberating and exciting.
That's great! What song do you rock most on vocals? I once heard a Oldster in Manchester New Hampshire completely killing "I'm wasted and I can't find my way home." WIll never forget the heartfeltedness.
I didn’t mention earlier that I loved your essay. We keep coming back to What’s Up (4 Nonblondes). And Deathly by Aimee Mann. More recently, working on Sheryl Crowe’s version of Sweet Child ‘O Mine. I also love harmonizing on backup vocals.
We are getting a piano on Sunday, and I'm going to start playing again! And I need to one day make it to a Misspent Youth show. <3
Hey Mark! Drumming is life and it’s the most primal and validating way to speak. Les Paul says “Music is the space between the notes.” I add to that, “When in doubt, lay out.”
I’m 58 and started playing bass at 52, vocals at 56, and drums at 57. One thing that has jump-started these musical interests is an Austin musical collective called the Old Phukkerz. The collective has over 300 members, about 50 active ones, from all skill levels. We play 70s, 80s, 90s punk, new wave, and alternative cover songs. We have a show about every 4 months. Interested members add songs to and sign up for songs on a setlist. Newcomers are encouraged to participate, and musicians are encouraged to try new instruments. We have a few rehearsals. The goal of the show is having fun — not musical perfection —although some people do a stellar job! Venues like us because we have so many people attend (most in the band), and we’re well-behaved and buy adult beverages.
This is the rare example of Austin being BETTER than it was 30 years ago, when me and my wife lived there. I would love to join in a collective like that in LA or Chicago or northwest Connecticut, any of my places.
I absolutely love the Old Phukkerz! It’s so open, supportive, and fun. And, people from the collective have gotten together and formed other bands. I’ve gotten together with a group that’s writing a rock opera. 😄 Fortunately, Austin has lots of small venues (in book stores, coffee shops, etc.) where local bands can play.
Love this. I am newish to the bass as well.
Weight lifting. Hadn't lifted since college. Back then, I was the only woman in the gym. Slow and steady progression these days. It has been an amazing process to become stronger. I've also started crocheting. With age comes patience. Thank goodness! Currently learning to make a hearts garland for Valentine's Day and, so far, my hearts are wonky. Perhaps for the best.
Writing. I started and stopped a dozen times in my 50s before I began to take it seriously. What prevented me was realizing that out of the gate, I was a REALLY crappy writer. But for some reason, I couldn't let the story or the characters that lived in my head go. To give it a go, I got up at 3 am before work and wrote...and then of course--I would periodically give it up again thinking--WTAF? Why are you sacrificing writing something that will likely never get published. It wasn't until I gave myself the permission to not listen to those pesky inner voices, to just keep going regardless of the outcome, that I FINALLY began to find joy in the process of writing.
Great piece. Thanks for pausing the drumming long enough to write it. Hope you get back to your drumming barn soon.
Drumming as well! I started a couple of years ago at 51. I have a lot of creative pursuits (mixed media art, fiber arts, slow stitching) including Middle Eastern dance. As Lisa said I am a dabbler but also a pro and art saved my life. From 47-51 I ran a women's transformational studio using art and creativity as a healing process. I always loved the drums, AND I always loved drummers. I went into deep mourning when Taylor Hawkins died. I wanted to learn how to play the rhythms I have danced to for years. So I primarily play frame drum, darkbuka and djembe, and got a drum kit last year so I can rock out (I am still very green on the kit). I play drums for their (evidence-based) healing capabilities, and have completed a training on facilitating drum circles for healing. I also study with Alexandra Jai who has a wonderful (all levels) Afro-cuban drumming online program called Rhythm Bliss.
Mark, also a later-in-life drummer here, and yes, once "Strangers" gets into your head, it won't get out. (I'm all about anything with a heavy floor tom.)
this message is encouraging and grounded in your thoughts of now. I spent years living with a drummer, and while it worked, it was fun. my real me is as a photographer and filmmaker. I wasn't the on-stage guy /gal but the one who captured the goings-on. I, too, have come to a place of acceptance from my days of going for what I wanted. I got that IT, and now I am looking for support for a documentary, but that's not why I am responding to you. I just want to say good for you, and I think you're on the only track for us older and accomplished beings to be this way. Bravo!