My father used to love the Beatles. He lived to see them on their prime, owned their LPs, danced like crazy with their music. He enjoyed cinema too. Every now and then he likes repeating a couple of stories from the films that left a scar on him or made him and his friends shit their pants.
Apart from these once-in-a-while moments, he never talks about art of any kind. A complete album set of the Beatles I once gave him as a gift now sits somewhere inside a shelf, dusting itself to eternity. Even some of the songs he chooses to hear from time to time through YouTube are from the years of his early adulthood.

So what went wrong with him? In fact, what went wrong with everyone who set their foot on middle age territory? Is Art really a vehicle of younger ages or a path too painful to follow once your hair begin to turn gray?

When you’re young you’ve got that drive to reach out for things, feel them, try them out. Phases succeed one another and everything seems to roll on fast forward. It’s like each breath you take has to count. You have to put it to action. And you are so sensitive, yet powerful. So Art can feel you and you can feel Art too. Because Art is also sensitive. And powerful. And you two go hand in hand. You live together, fall in love together, cry together. Even years later, you still keep in touch. Yes, the schedule becomes more hectic but you know you still got lots to learn. Most likely, when you’ve cracked the shell of the thirties, you’ve become highly selective. You think you have a clearer image of yourself. You know what makes you laugh, what can make your mind get a much needed piece of quiet or just numb you so as to take the stress of the day away.

In reality, you are trying to manipulate your emotions through known and trusted channels, which expands to your selections in art, rather than staying open and alert for new and interesting things that can come your way. As this becomes your MO for years to come, you are less and less amazed by things you hear and see. Nothing new for you to learn. The same stories seize to touch you since you’ve heard them so many times and you don’t feel the need to search elsewhere. You have practically decided to throw in the towel. To cut loose from a friend you’ve grown up with and shared the world together. You have decided to take it on your own, as it comes.
But you can’t make it on your own. You need support coming from every angle possible that you can get. You might have raised a family, running your business perfectly but no one thing going smoothly ensures your inner stability. You have to constantly evolve in everything, or else you’ll find yourself trapped, always reminiscing about the past, saying that things used to be simpler back in the days.

You have come a long way surpassing obstacles and difficulties through the years to just raise a white flag. And it’s never late to make amends with your past allies. Friends stay alive forever and so Art is there always. Constantly evolving, alive just like your true self. You just have to be present, hungry to learn and feel more, just like when you were young. Because you have lots to learn, even when you think you’ve met them all. It’s that simple and, in essence, it’s the way to get that feeling of immortality humanity seeks. And once in a while, through some junk indeed, you’ll find yourself before a good read, a fine piece of music or a great performance whose warmth will find the way to your soul.

Just like friends do.