Do you know that feeling you get when you start something new? Starting school, a new job, a marriage, motherhood… that strange little blob sitting in your stomach, paired with the slight twitch in your smile. It says everything, doesn’t it?
I am here. I am doing a thing.
Well, that has been me lately. I am 60 years old and have decided to spend the rest of my life creating.
I have always loved creating stories, characters, and little bursts of poetry and art. These “things,” for lack of a better word, have been my refuge and my peace for as long as I can remember.
Thinking back, I started storytelling as a way to escape my childhood. My brothers came along for the ride. I would often lie next to them in the early hours of the day and make up stories about people and places. I spent hours coloring or building something for my Barbies’ houses.
As I got older, poetry took over, and there was a phase where every single poem had to rhyme. Looking back, I laugh at some of them. An old poem I once titled My Ex-Boyfriend included the stanza:
Long and ugly, out of place,
That’s my ex-boyfriend’s cheating face.
I laugh at it now, but the pain was real at the time, and I found solitude in poetry.
Later, when motherhood took over, my children’s happiness consumed me. I wanted them to have as many playdates and late-night stories with Mom as possible. I read stories to them, and I wrote even more. If they had a problem, I would create tiny poem books for us to read together at night.
I have not thought about that in a while. I’m surprised I remembered it.
The last few decades have been wrapped up in raising children, running a small business, and fighting with immune and skeletal systems that seem to hate me. I owned a website design company for approximately 15 years. I wrote blog articles, manuals, and website content. I enjoyed it for a long time. Eventually, though, my health took over, and I decided it was best to close shop.
That was six years ago.
Since then, I have mostly been struggling with my health. I have had seven spine surgeries and countless infusions. But I never stopped writing or dreaming or creating.
Again, I found peace in my creations.
Granted, I have been so inflamed over the last six years that one afternoon painting or an evening writing would leave me spent. It could take days before I was able to return to whatever I was making. Then I would spend an hour creating and four hours napping because of it.
Then this past December, things started to change.
Like someone turned a key and opened a door.
My specialists decided to change my medication and—BAM.
Sure, I was sick for the first few days after the infusion, but what a difference prayer and new medication can make. With reduced inflammation, I have been able to diet and exercise more. Suddenly, I have more time to create and less time to cry.
I spend my days surrounded by plants, paints, projects, laptops, and dogs.
In the last six months, I have lost 47 pounds, and I am still going. I can sit at my desk longer and focus better. With regular naps, I can keep going.
I decided it was time to spend more energy creating all of the projects backlogged in my mind. Hours lying in bed, too weak to grab a pen, created quite a backlog.
Some days, I cannot get it onto paper fast enough.
I plan to fill this site with articles on writing, art, and life. I have plans to open a print-on-demand shop within the next month or so to share some of my art and poetry. I have 48 coloring books already created and sitting in cloud folders, waiting to be formatted and published.
I also have my first dark poetry book coming out this year.
And I am starting a TikTok channel to discuss story building, books I have read, and whatever else comes to mind.
I am excited to begin a new creative journey at sixty.
I am nervous.
But I am ready to put my work into the world and see what happens.
I hope you come along with me for a while.
Thanks for reading my first blog post.
You rock.