Do Not Go Gentle…

…into that good night.  A poem read in high school that stayed with me…

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas (1914~1953)

The thought of growing old when in my teens seemed a remote possibility.  Almost as much as the thought of once again being young seeming even more unbelievable.  But in age I ponder how to use the time left…to do it wisely, wildly?  To strike out on new adventures or continue in a comfortable rut or find a middle ground.

Thomas’s poem seems to want the aging to rage and fight against the final night.  But the passion should be more about pushing one’s creative limits with a blinding passion that re-ignites love of life and all that make it worthwhile.  Yes, anger is an emotion – strong one.  But it is also a destroyer, not a creator.  And I choose the passion of creating.  In my case creating stories visually.

While I doubt that I can ever truly lay down my camera, I seem to use it less and less on on a day to day basis.  But I still love the art and craft of storytelling and seem to be seguing more and more into discussion and demonstration – not so much in the learn/teach mode as share and explore.  My visualization is moving from the nuts and bolts of wide, medium, close-up to a sense of light…dark…motion…feeling.  A sequence of emotions that join together in an attempt to communicate.

I have something new to play with at a pace more suited to my age and abilities that will still allow exploration of the world and its inhabitants and my first loves.  Seeing and communicating what I see so that others may share the vision.

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