“Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be.
But a great artist can look at an old woman, portray her exactly as she is…and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be…and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body.
― Robert A. Heinlein
I suppose I have the sensitivity of an armadillo -not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. Sometimes, when I look at older people, I catch a glimpse of their past, and I can see their future as well.
The ones who are not bitter and not occupied with whining, wordless share their life with the ones who listen to a sound that doesn’t exist. Often it’s so easy to sense a youth that can’t be seen anymore.
How much harder to see the age in a young person who still travels on the road of choices. What way they chose to go, will often determine who they will be in old age.
How about me? I can still see the little girl and the young woman, both haven’t left me, they are still there. The old woman is in the making, and I am wondering who she will be. Is it life or do I have the last word when it comes to the old version of me?
I hope it’s me!