On Being A Late Bloomer
The other day, my sister and I were having a conversation about Grandma Moses (random, I know but it’s what we do; we also talked at length about crop circles). I knew she was an American painter and that her style was ‘primitive’, but not much else so I took advantage of my ability to utilize 21stcentury technology and googled her.
I’ve spent the last several days thinking about her. A lot. Her name was Anna Mary Robertson, and she was born before Lincoln was in office. She began painting at the age of 78 after her husband, Thomas Moses, died and rheumatism forced her to give up embroidery. She lived to be 101 and created more than 1,500 paintings over her 23-year career. Painting from memory, she looked backwards instead of toward the future. That makes a lot of sense when you’re 78, I think. You’ve seen the meme that says, ‘you’re not too old and it’s not too late’, right? That almost wasn’t true, in Grandma Moses’ case.
An art collector by the name of Louis Caldor bought all of Grandma Moses’ early paintings and tried to find space to show her work but most gallery owners balked at her age, thinking she wouldn’t live long enough to recoup the expense of a show. He finally convinced Otto Kallir to give her a chance and she became an instant favorite of the art world, continuing to paint for another 21 years. Over 16 million Grandma Moses Christmas cards were sold in 1946 and she was featured on the cover of Time magazine in 1953. Grandma Moses was most definitely ahead of her time. And behind it. And also, right on time. She’s my new favorite rock star (if not painter, I’m still partial to Georgia O’Keeffe and Edward Hopper, with whom I share a birthday, but I digress).
Since my retirement a few weeks ago, I’ve been pondering what it is I want to do with my time. I enjoy writing this column very much but honestly, it feels more like a conversation over coffee (albeit, one-sided) than doing something actually productive. I’d like to write a book on Tarot but so many wonderful books on the subject have already been written that I don't see much point putting my efforts into this kind of project, but we'll see. I like to teach people how to read tarot and I like to read tarot for people who do not wish to learn, but still want to know what the cards have to say to them. Again, there are a multitude of talented readers competing for space in both the physical and virtual arenas that I’m not sure… no, scratch that, I’m one-hundred percent sure, I do not want to fight for a place in the fray.
I'm happily posting daily readings on Facebook and Instagram and recently began collaborating with a fellow psychic on semi-monthly live readings and psychic chat on those social media channels. We do this solely for our own entertainment and are still finding our groove, but we’re clever and engaging... and good... and you should check us out. I think we have about eleven followers at the moment so you can say 'you knew us when'. I enjoy following all sorts of different readers and practitioners on TikTok, and am continually impressed by the quality of the content they create, but I just do not have anywhere near the energy for that platform. At all. I have mad respect their ingenuity and hustle, but I didn’t exit the calliope to jump on the merry-go-round. I’ll be over here in the slow lane, if you're looking for me.
So here I am, minding my business, with my old-school column, reminiscing about how I once looked forward to reading my favorites writers in the printed newspaper (nodding at you, Leon Hale) when just this past week, several newsletter writers I follow announced they are switching to a paid subscription format through Substack. This flavor-of-the-month platform has a smooth, fresh look, options for reader engagement and discussion, and a few other bells and whistles my beloved Ghost doesn’t offer. But there, at the bottom of each newsletter is a button asking me to “Upgrade To Paid”. (Ghost, by the way is ad-free and cookie-free. I pay for that. No one is watching you here.)
This upgrade button is pretty insistent and creates an immediate FOMO reaction in my brain. Should I upgrade? What am I missing if I don’t? What wonderful treasure awaits me if I click that button and enter my credit card information? The free stuff was good so the paid stuff must be great! And all for the bargain price of $5 per month (or whatever amount the writer determines their words are worth). If I subscribe, it’s like I’ve made a new friend. Only it's one I’ve had to pay for. I also wonder if I’m behind the times and if I, too, should have a Substack (or whatever the current favorite is).
Then I come to my senses and think, wait a minute, isn’t this why I avoid Patreon? I mean, look, whatever I’m writing here every week is the best I’ve got, I promise. I’m not holding out on you. Some weeks will be better than others. Maybe by a lot.
If you would like to give me money, you can always book a tarot reading or one of my other services (yeah, that’s a tiny plug but feel free to ignore it). If you think I ramble here, just wait until I put a deck of cards in front of us. Until then, I’m going to embrace my inner Grandma Moses and Leon Hale and write about things I observe, things I remember, and things I remember to observe. Please accept these words on this virtual page in the spirit in which they are offered: you get what you pay for.
If you’re also someone getting a ‘late start’ on your creative endeavors, check out Later Bloomer – A Captivating Archive of Lives Well-Lived. There are many accomplished scholars, artists, writers and the like, who didn’t let being a little long in the tooth stop them from leaving their mark on the world. Long in the tooth? Does anyone even say that anymore? If you don’t know what I mean, you can google it.