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More poetry.

Portrait of the Artist as a Middle-Aged Broad

I will be thirty-seven years old in a few weeks and for the first time in a long time, I am acutely aware of my age. It's not so much that I would like to be younger, but simply a sense of transition. A friend who is fond of taking photographs of me lately told me that I have an "interesting" face. "You will be like Georgia O'Keefe," he tells me. I look in the mirror sometimes and see shadows of my younger self playing off the aged face that is barely beginning to emerge.

I have become more accepting of my circumstances, less apt to rage against the beds of my own making. There's no weakness it that, much to my surprise. It has actually made me stronger and less likely to wallow in the emotional angst and bullshit I was once quite fond of. I have cleared the path for myself over the last couple of years and I now have an unshakeable feeling that wonderful things are ahead of me.