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Archive for the ‘Art’ Category

Judith Leyster, holding 18 brushes in her self-portrait

Aging My Way

The theme for the March issue of Artists Magazine is “Put Your Best Face Forward.” It then goes on to feature self-portraits of artists, of which two stood out to me as being women who knew their own worth. The portraits were painted by Dutch artist Judith Leyster and American artist Alice Neel.

While we live in a world where too many of us spend way too much time trying to copy media influencers and others who may or may not have admirable qualities, the self-portraits of these two women tells me that, flaws and all, they knew they were enough.

I wonder if their self-confidence was easier to come by because they lived before the age of social media.

Judith Leyster even knew her worth, or so it looks like from her self-portrait, as far back as the 1600s. Her self-portrait (above) exudes confidence, even though she lived in a time when women were still considered property. In fact, her work, after her death, was attributed to her husband and another artist, a common practice back then

Thankfully, Judith was rediscovered in 1893 and her work properly attributed.

The second artist, Alice Neel (1900-1984) is an artist whose work I have long loved. And the self-portrait she painted, and is sitting beside below, is one of my very favorite pieces.

Alice Neel, sitting proudly by her self-portrait.

It’s called Alice Neel at 80. The painting tells me that Alice was a confident old broad who didn’t give a damn that her body parts had succumbed to gravity. Alice knew her worth despite the toll the years had taken.

Although I have no intention to paint a self-portrait of my own nude 83-year-old body, Neel’s painting does let me feel more self-confident about it – and to see the beauty the years have given all us old broads.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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Aging My Way

          Some asshole writer commenting on William Shatner, in the NY Times no less, implied he wasn’t a fantastic actor and hadn’t lived an incredible life. The comment had me screaming.

While I might agree Shatner’s acting might not be Oscar worthy, his role as Captain Kirk helped launch Star Trek’s incredible popularity, and as for leading an incredible life, how many of us can say we’ve flown in space.

Besides, I believe that each and every one of us lead incredible lives, ones that no one else can duplicate. I know I have. While I may not have had as many incredible things happen to me as Shatner – aftercall I’m only 83 and he’s 91 – I’m still enough.  

Even if people have the same experiences, no one reacts, comprehends, thinks, or responds exactly the same. Each of us is valuable in our own way. But that nitwit writer judged Shatner, I suspect because of his fame, against some higher standard.

The writer’s words certainly weren’t kind – or necessary, and in my mind represent the bullying that we’re trying to stem among our youth.

Still, since I’m not a Trekkie, you may be wondering, why the words of that nincompoop had me screaming, I’m kind of wondering about my reaction as well.

Screaming at something I read is not common, but then again, it’s not rare either. But this reaction was pretty strong.

Maybe it was my growing awareness, now having time to reflect on life, that each of us, in our own way, is incredibly enough for this world. Or maybe it’s because I have a grandson who qualifies for that Trekkie moniker, and I was screaming for him. .

 Or maybe it was just one old person taking up for another old person.  

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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Memory Triggers

A trip down memory lane — Art by Pat Bean

Aging My Way

My granddaughter Shanna often calls me as she drives to work in the mornings. She’s a fantastic woman who at 40 found herself starting life anew. She was a bit downhearted about it, but I told her that my life only got more interesting and exciting once I reached that landmark – and that’s the honest truth.

Yesterday morning as we chatted, she mentioned that she had met someone who might turn out to be a good mentor for her.

 The word mentor triggered a memory of my first, a tall, down-home, y’all-speaking, Texas county sheriff, who taught me the ropes for covering a murder investigation when I was a green-behind-the-ears reporter – after he had humiliated me a couple of times. But then that taught me the power of persistence.

It was a good memory. But then I’ve always tended to bury bad memories beneath a heavy rock that rarely gets lifted — and that’s a gift I treasure.

Memories, at least for me, are one of the positives about growing older. And if you’re into your eighth decade, and embraced life, you’re bound to have a lot of them. And the years have taught me that sometimes the simple and quiet ones, like a phone call from a loved one, or staring out at a field full of Texas bluebonnets, can be as meaningful as standing under a waterfall at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m not through with creating memories. I collected one just this morning as I watched a pair of courting mourning doves prance around my yard. At 83, I’m a lot more observant than I was at 23.

So, listen up brain. You better make some more room up there.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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Art by Pat Bean

Aging My Way

These days there seems to be a month for everything. In March, there’s Sing-With-Your-Child Month, Appreciate Dolphins Month, Berries and Cherries Month, Mad for Plaid Month and National On-Hold Month – and that’s just to name a few of the many I usually never hear about, nor celebrate.

On a more relevant note, at least to me, is that March is National Women’s History Month. I’ve come a long way from being raised in a time when women’s proper place was thought to be married, barefoot, and pregnant to thinking I should have the same rights as a man.

My original perspective was that women’s fight for equality began in the 1960s and ‘70s, spurred by women like Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan, and the fight for the Equal Rights Amendment.

These were the years that marked the beginning of my awareness of inequality and unfairness in the world, and not just for women. Not surprisingly, these years coincided with the beginning of my 37-year journalism career and my personal fight for equal pay for equal work.

History, however, tells a different story. While there are many individual stories going way back in time, the big fight for equal rights for American women began in 1869 with the founding of the National Women’s Suffrage Association by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who along with women like Susan B. Anthony and Victoria Hull, fought for women’s right to vote.

This resulted in an 1884 decision by the Supreme Court that citizenship does not give women the right to vote. Women didn’t give up, however, even though many of them were severely harassed or even jailed simply for continuing to fight for the vote.

Then, in 1913, thousands of women marched on Washington D.C. demanding the right to vote, a right that was finally achieved nationally in 1920 with the passage of the 19th Amendment. As a writer, I think of all the stories, told and untold, that led up to this momentous occasion. I also am still astonished that this took place just 19 years before I was born.

It’s because of these strong women of the past that I have the privileges I do today. And I’m thankful. Yes. National Women’s History Month is one I will celebrate.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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Aging My Way

I came across a quote by John F. Kennedy this morning that I thought was worthy of being copied into my journal.  “Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought,he said.  As I don’t want to write about politics today, I’ll let you put your own understanding and meaning to these words.

Meanwhile, I frequently copy quotes into my journal. Usually, they are ones that cleverly and inspiringly put into words something meaningful to me, sometimes even causing me to rethink a subject.

One quote that came to my wandering/wondering brain this morning was the well-known (well at least it sure be familiar to some of you) was “The pen is mightier than the sword.”  As I added those words to my journal as part of my thoughts, I wanted to give credit to the author.  My brain was telling me it was Benjamin Franklin, but then the old reporter adage, “double check even if your mother says it’s so,” sent me doing some quick research.

I’m glad I did because I discovered that the phrase was first written by novelist and playwright Edward Bulwer-Lytton. He penned the words in his historical play Cardinal Richelieu in 1839.

As so often happens, that search sent me on another search. Why was Edward’s last name hyphenated? The answer was that his father’s name was General William Earle Bulwer and his mother’s name was  Elizabeth Barbara Lytton.

Now that seemed odd to me, as in those days women were still considered property.  So, who was Elizabeth?

My research continued and I learned that she was a member of the Lytton family of Knebworth House in Hertfordshire, England. After her father’s death, Elizabeth resumed her father’s surname, by a royal license of 1811. That year she returned to Knebworth House, which by then had become dilapidated. She renovated it by demolishing three of its four sides and adding Gothic towers and battlements to the remaining building.

She lived at Knebworth with her son, the writer Edward Bulwer-Lytton, until her death. Because of a long-standing dispute she had with the church, she is buried not with her ancestors at St Mary’s Knebworth, but in the Lytton Mausoleum.

Hmm. I wonder if the dispute had anything to do with women’s rights. But what’s the significance of Knebworth House. My brain was still on a roll.

It’s an English Country House (Looked like a mansion to me), according to Wikipedia, that has been the home of the Lytton family since 1490. Furthermore, the grounds are home to the Knebworth Festival, a recurring open-air rock and pop concert held since 1974, and until 2014 was home to another hard rock festival, Sonisphere.

And suddenly I realized the morning was almost over. This happens a lot.

It’s a good thing I’m retired.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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The Gift of Having Pets  

Chigger — Art by Pat Bean

I came across a blog this morning about the gifts your pets bring to you.

The first thing I thought about was Chigger, the cat my son rescued in a canyon during a snow storm. She was quite tiny, probably less than six weeks old, when he dumped her in my lap on Christmas Eve and said “Merry Christmas Mom.”

She got her name at about 2 a.m. the next morning when I wanted to sleep and she wanted to play. Nothing, I thought, is pestier than chiggers. Chigger and I spent the next 18 years of our lives together.

One of the first things she gifted me with was a bird – this was before birding became one of my passions so I have no idea what species it was. But it was alive and seemed unhurt. I quickly shut Chigger up in the bathroom until I had released the bird, which because of my love of wild things, I was glad to see could quickly fly away.

Chigger let me know she was pissed, and never brought me another bird. Instead, she chose to bring me dead field mice – often.

Then there was my Cocker Spaniel Peaches. She and Chigger were pals, although I never knew until both were aged and hard-of-hearing, and I spied them sleeping curled up together. This, I thought, was a very good friendship because it was a time when I worked long hours and they were home alone.

The only gift Peaches ever brought to me was a tennis ball – and that was with an ulterior motive in mind. She wanted me to throw it for her to fetch – over and over again.

My current canine companion Scamp occasionally brings me a toy to throw for him to chase, or to initiate a game of tug of war, but mostly he expects me to give him gifts. He especially likes to receive his own piece of mail.

He sits in front of me expectantly after I bring in the mail, clearly asking me with his eyes: “Where’s mine, where’s mine?”

So, I give him an envelope or piece of junk mail, and he bounces off happy. A while later, I find myself snooping down – it’s good exercise – to pick up tiny bits of paper scattered around the house. It’s always made more difficult by Scamp trying to rescue as many of the pieces he can. So much fun.

But the best gift all my pets have given me has been unconditional love – and they always know when I need it the most.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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The Red Bird

A quick painting of a Northern Cardinal I made in a sketchbook 10 years ago. I see I drew the leaves better than the bird, but I did capture the familiar bird’s flamboyance.

Aging My Way

Looking out my bedroom sliding glass door, I saw a red bird sitting on the fence, exactly where mourning doves sit almost daily, and where once in a while a Cooper’s Hawk perches, quickly frightening the doves to scatter.fla

One of the hawk’s favorite meals is smaller birds.

And that includes the Northern Cardinal, the male red bird that graced me with his presence as I drank my cream-laced coffee this morning. I suspected the less colorful female was nearby, but I see her far less often.

The cardinal is one of the birds I grew up with, for a long time knowing it only as the red bird. It’s now become one of the few birds whose voice I can recognize. Sometimes it sounds like cheer-cheer-cheer, other times like pre-tty, pre-tty, pre-tty. Since it doesn’t migrate from season to season, it’s always around, although it’s often called the winter bird.

Photographers and artists love to capture its brilliant red feathers against a snowy background, and Christmas cards abound with such images. Another example of this red bird’s popularity is that seven states – Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina, Ohio, Virginia, and West Virginia – call it their state bird.

And it’s the mascot for Arizona’s NFL football team. I note this last because since I have now lived in Tucson for 10 years, it’s something I should know.

But what I like best about the cardinal is that it was my grandmother’s favorite bird. And seeing one always reminds me of her.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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What I know at 83

Art by Pat Bean

“My mother always used to say: The older you get, the better you get – unless you’re a banana.” Betty White, as Rose in The Golden Girls.

Aging My Way

I’m about as far from perfect as you can get. Even so, I automatically resist following advice. The words “you should” have my brain saying “No” before the next words are spoken. Just ask my friends.

But having spent 83 years living a roller coaster life full of experiences and emotions, I have learned a few things along the way.  

Like not to waste time on excuses, but just to do whatever it is I should or want to do. OK, of course, I don’t always do it – but I know I should.  

Another thing I’ve learned over the years is to treasure my friends and family – and to take nothing personal because it almost always isn’t.

I’ve discovered that making decisions doesn’t have to be scary, because you can always change them. Wrong decisions and mistakes are how one grows. Or as Leonard Cohen said: “There are cracks in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”   

I’ve also finally figured out that you can’t learn anything when you’re the one talking. And at 83, I know how important it is to never stop learning or trying something new every day. Another hard lesson for me was to not regret or worry about the past, just try to live today the best way I know how.

But the best thing I’ve learned over the years is to wake up every morning counting my blessings. It always puts life’s little nags in perspective.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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And Why the Hell Not?

Jungle Aviary by Pat Bean — Sometimes my thoughts are as jumbled as this charcoal sketch

Aging My Way

“Frequently, while I’m reading, a sentence will grab me; and force me to stop and think. And then I reach for a special notebook where I record every Damn Fine Sentence that’s made me stop,” wrote Dawn Downey

When I read that statement, I immediately identified with the writer. This is me, I thought. I’m often copying down sentences that are examples of great writing, or sentences that make me stop and think, or ones that make me search out more information on a subject.

The truth is I’ve copied down a lot of what other writers have to say over the years; sometimes because the writing itself sings to me, sometimes because it makes me rethink ideas past their time, and sometimes just because I find the writer’s thoughts interesting or meaningful.

But I’ve usually written these things down in my daily journal, and then they get lost in the written jetsam and flotsam of an unorganized brain that hops around and around from one varied thought to another.

Dawn’s words, however, spurred me to consider keeping a similar journal to the one she wrote about. As I was mulling this idea over, I came across a sentence I had recently written down in my current journal, one that posed a simple question: “And why the hell not?”

It struck me that this was a sentence with a lot of strength in it. The outcome of all this dazzling brain work was that I did start my own Every-Damn Fine-Sentence Journal.

“And why the hell not?” became its first sentence.

This same sentence has gone on to become a mantra for me, one that reminds me to both make better use of my time, and as a dare to do something new or different.

I think it’s a damn fine sentence. What do you think?

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, an enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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Saw-Whet Owl — The silver lining of aging is that I have more time to observe birds and paint them. — Art by Pat Bean

As An Old Broad Sees It

I married young, had five children, then joined the work force a month before I turned 28. I was lucky. I fell into a job that I loved so much that I overlooked how hard I struggled to make it all come together as a working mom. I actually believed I could have it all. That makes me laugh now. Today’s women are wiser.

I joined the work force in 1967, long before the much-needed Me-Too Revolution took place. It was also a time in history when women, in large numbers, were finally speaking up for equal opportunities and equal rights and pay as men.

We women have come a long way since then. Just one example is that in the 1960s, women accounted for only 3 percent of the nation’s lawyers. Today that number is over 40 percent. Ruth Baden Ginsburg pointed out the growing numbers of female lawyers in her book My Own Words.

But on a more personal level, I see my granddaughters struggle with finding jobs that they enjoy, but also jobs that let them have a life outside of work. And they are not alone. Just this morning I came across two articles, one in the N.Y. Times, and one that just popped up because I was reading the Times piece. (Sometimes I think the computer gods know more about what I should want than I do.)

Wrote Roxane Gay in the Times article: “… People want something different, something more. They want more satisfaction or more money or more respect. They want to feel as if they’re making a difference. They want to feel valued or seen or heard. They want the man in the next cubicle to chew less loudly so they are afforded more peace … They want to have more time for themselves and interests beyond how they spend their professional lives. They want and want and want and worry that they will never receive the satisfaction they seek.

I’ve heard the same thoughts from my granddaughters.

These are thoughts this old broad, raised by parents who lived through the Great Depression, is only now beginning to hear. During my parents’ era, the main concern was simply for the man of the family to have a job, hopefully one that the family could survive on, never mind if he liked the job or not.

I remember hearing my father say, when my mother finally went to work after the children were all gone, “her salary only pays for what the IRS now charges me in taxes.” This wasn’t true but it salvaged his pride that his wife was working. She, actually, was a better provider than he had ever been.

Now retired, I have time to reflect on all the advances we women, and men, have made over the years. l think having a life outside of work is a worthy idea, especially, since as a journalist of my era, I met hundreds of people who hated their jobs but didn’t have the advantage of quitting, or so they thought.

If I hadn’t fallen into a job I loved, and which gave me all the satisfaction I needed, I could have been one of them.

Now, I’m just an old broad enjoying her retirement, and having time to look at the world a bit differently. I find this quandary of life and its many changes fascinating – but glad I’m not in the middle of the quandary. Being an old broad does have its silver linings.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is an avid reader, enthusiastic birder, the author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), is always searching for life’s silver lining, and these days aging her way – and that’s usually not gracefully.

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