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Fit Philosophy
As some of my more dogged readers might remember, my mother once cautioned me about the folly of pursuing Philosophy instead of Medicine at University. Every mother, it seems, has dreams of their offspring becoming doctors, or lawyers -well, some societally respected career, at least- but her reasons seemed particularly pointed. “Even if you get…
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And thereby hangs a tale
As I have begun to sense the shadows of my still unfolding epilogue, I’ve also come to appreciate the stories we elders tell to those around us. They do not always contain great wisdom, perhaps, and yet they bespeak the years of experience that have brought us this far. Sometimes, Age can teach the personal…
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Some relish the saltiness of Time
There are some things that have always filled me with wonder: the flash of colours in the garden as a hummingbird hesitates in a sunbeam, then disappears leaving only memory in its wake; the slow patient lap of waves from who knows where arriving as guests at the door of a tiny beach; the worried…
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I’ll note you in my book of memory
As I rattle slowly through the years, I find that I am spending increasing time with my memories. I’m told that even the best ones change the more they are recalled -they are not videotapes, or even photographs stored in albums inside my head- but still, they will suffice. I do not need much detail…
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Here’s ado to lock up honesty
We are always on stage aren’t we? Always actors in a changing play. I am elderly now, but still amazed at the parts I am expected to play. I was a doctor once -or is that a permanent role with permanent obligations?- so to some, there is still an expectation of lingering wisdom that I…
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The Raven himself is hoarse
Now that Time is exacting an increasing toll upon my ears, I’m beginning to become more sensitive to sounds. Not better able to hear them, of course, but more appreciative of what there is to hear; simple things that before would have passed unnoticed in the day, are suddenly treasures: the ringing timbre of a…
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A Pentimento for your thoughts?
Ever since I became aware of the practice, I have been fascinated with pentimenti. The idea of reusing a canvas is understandable when supplies are scant or expensive I suppose, but somehow, painting over a previous attempt smacks of desecration. Of course, if the eventual product has worth, and demonstrates skill and imagination, perhaps interest…
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I go, and it is done
What is the meaning of Death; for that matter, what is Death? When I was a very young child, I didn’t understand why my parents were upset when I used to wander off to play on the banks of the fast-flowing river near our house. I realized why they might be concerned when I ventured…
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Fear can neither fight nor fly
We are a vain species to be sure: the pinnacle of creation, the standard against which all else can and should be measured, the judge and jury of any trial. In fairness though, I suppose, we can only use what we were given, and our criteria are of necessity human criteria, so we assess the…
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