In the ‘70s, when I lived in the American war resister community in Stockholm during the Vietnam War, we went to the public baths downtown twice a week.
I agree that our generation seems more willing to discuss the body breakdown that comes with aging. And that's good. But I also find the topic boring. I like to spend time with younger people (younger can be 55!) for that pre-retirement liveliness they bring to the conversation.
I don't think those two groupings are mutually exclusive. Certainly I want to find out what younger people are thinking about. I just feel that we've banished our aging bodies because of shame and I'm done with that.
Susie, what a welcome development! I'm a Brit whose role models were fierce, educated women of my grandmother's age, who had come of age during WWII. They didn't give a toss about clothes, hair coloring, or make-up, because they always had more important things to do. It rubbed off, with the result that when I lived in south Georgia (where white women were expected to be perfectly coiffed and styled) , I was often treated with the contempt reserved for food stamp recipients. It was very entertaining. Honestly, all the time women spend preparing and presenting an inauthentic self to meet the world seems a waste to me. I have a posh frock, so I can dress up if I have to, but I stopped even trying to wear makeup a long time ago. It's not who I am.
I think that what I may love most about your writing, dear Susie, is how you bring disparate elements of life together in ways that resonate, and often dramatically. Here we think with you about our tenderness for our aging bodies, and we shudder in horror about the Ukraine. The personal, the archetypal, the world. And always, your humanity and self-revelations light up your writing. On a more personal note, I will share that my 79 year old skin is paper-thin and bruises if you look at it. I am very colorful.
I agree that our generation seems more willing to discuss the body breakdown that comes with aging. And that's good. But I also find the topic boring. I like to spend time with younger people (younger can be 55!) for that pre-retirement liveliness they bring to the conversation.
I don't think those two groupings are mutually exclusive. Certainly I want to find out what younger people are thinking about. I just feel that we've banished our aging bodies because of shame and I'm done with that.
Susie, what a welcome development! I'm a Brit whose role models were fierce, educated women of my grandmother's age, who had come of age during WWII. They didn't give a toss about clothes, hair coloring, or make-up, because they always had more important things to do. It rubbed off, with the result that when I lived in south Georgia (where white women were expected to be perfectly coiffed and styled) , I was often treated with the contempt reserved for food stamp recipients. It was very entertaining. Honestly, all the time women spend preparing and presenting an inauthentic self to meet the world seems a waste to me. I have a posh frock, so I can dress up if I have to, but I stopped even trying to wear makeup a long time ago. It's not who I am.
It's such a drain on one's energy, isn't it?
I think that what I may love most about your writing, dear Susie, is how you bring disparate elements of life together in ways that resonate, and often dramatically. Here we think with you about our tenderness for our aging bodies, and we shudder in horror about the Ukraine. The personal, the archetypal, the world. And always, your humanity and self-revelations light up your writing. On a more personal note, I will share that my 79 year old skin is paper-thin and bruises if you look at it. I am very colorful.
Thank you for all the color of your storytelling and your skin. You are a great reader of my visions.