Confronting My Fear of Being "Too Old" to Start an Art Career

Hello again! I’m so glad you are here. Thank you for choosing to spend a little bit of your time to read this newsletter. In case you are just joining me, this newsletter is about me, a person past 50, embracing a creative life and the full spectrum of experiences that I encounter along the way. In sharing my experiences and learning with you, I hope to find my tribe and help all of us feel less alone, less afraid, and more empowered to say, “yes!” to whatever creative life is calling to us.

This is me sketching outdoors. Do you see the white “wisdom” hairs? Photo credit: my spouse

Making art holds so many wonderful benefits for me. It’s simultaneously meditative and exciting. It’s pleasurable. It connects me to people, places, plants, and animals. The best part, however, is that I feel so wholly myself when I am making art. Like other spheres of life, however, there are also many challenges. After deciding to make art my second career, I found myself confronting many different fears. In this newsletter, I want to focus on the idea/fear that starting at age 50 is “too late” or “too old” to start. I believe that I’m not the only person dealing with this fear. I want to explore and name what I think this fear is really about. I’ll also share some of the ways that I deal with this fear.¹

When I started to write about this topic, I mistakenly believed that I understood the roots of my age-based fear. I thought that, “I’m too old” translated simply as, “there’s not enough time left in my life to get good.”

Looking deeper, I realize that there are some other fears/thoughts that pop up when I think about making art in relation to my age. They sound something like this:

• Oh no! I’m going to be a beginner, that’s so humiliating.

• Art is play. Older, responsible people do work not play! If I do art, people will think I’m not responsible, that I care only for my own pleasure.²

• It will take you too long to make any real income at art and retirement is just around the corner.³

I won’t address all of the above here, only the ones I think are the deepest: the idea that time is limited for me and about being a beginner.

Talking Back to the Not-Enough-Time Fear

One way I’ve kept this fear at bay is to look for examples of other artists starting later in life. A brief and casual research proved to me that there have been artists who started their art careers later. Grandma Moses started in her late 70’s. Alma Woodsey Thomas and Mary Delaney both started at age 68. And I do mean started. Unlike the case with Paul Cezanne and Claude Monet who were able to work on their art for years but only later became esteemed, these women, like women in general, were too busy earning a living or being a wife to spare time for their own art. Grandma Moses retired from farming, Alma Woodsey Thomas retired from teaching, and Mary Delaney was widowed before they were free to devote their time to art. I especially relate to Alma Woodsey Thomas, who, not only shares my name and was an educator (for 35 years) before devoting her time to her art, but was also a Black woman. These women did not let their age or their racial background stop them from pursuing an art career. Their stories encourage me and go a long way to answering my fears about starting later.

Another place that I have found encouragement is in The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron. I highly recommend reading and completing the exercises Cameron details in her book. Here is an excerpt that directly addresses the lie we tell ourselves about being too old to start:⁴

“How long would it take me to learn to do that?” we may ask, standing on the sideline of a longed-for activity.

“Maybe a year to be pretty good,” the answer comes back. “It depends.”

…“It’s such long way,” we tell ourselves. It may be, but each day is just one more day with some motion in it, and that motion toward a goal is very enjoyable. (p.139)

Earlier on this same page Cameron writes:

As blocked creatives, we like to pretend that a year or even several years is a long, long time. Our ego plays this little trick to keep us from getting started. Instead of allowing ourselves a creative journey, we focus on the length of the trip.

I find it helpful to remember this passage from Cameron’s book. Essentially, she is saying, don’t focus on the destination, focus on the journey. When the focus in on the process, age and time are not important.

A close-up of one of the “encouragement” cards taped above my work area

Talking Back to the Fear of Being a Beginner

From the list above, I think that the fear about being a beginner is probably the strongest. I was an educator - the person who taught others - for more than 25 years. I think being vulnerable is hard enough at any point past the age of 6 but it lends another layer of resistance to cut through when your job for 25 years was to be in the role of the Knower. Now I am in the role of the Seeker. And truthfully, I like being in the position of passing on skills and knowledge. Although we may say “learning is life-long,” we tend to look to teachers to know things, to be certain, and to have answers. We don’t expect them to be unsure, tentative, and questioning. These latter things I now feel and do a lot as a beginner.

How do I deal with the extreme discomfort of being a beginner again? It’s been 2 years since I resigned from teaching and started making art regularly. In that time I have learned that it is possible to enjoy small increments of growth and that I can make art that I like right now. The key is in managing my expectations and, once again, in putting the focus on exploration and experimentation, rather than the end product. I’ve also learned that being a beginner may require me to be humble - asking for help and seeking to learn from others, but that, given the right teachers, this does not need to be a humiliating experience. Being in a group of other learners helps too.

A partial photo of my copy of Leo the Late Bloomer written by Robert Kraus and Illustrated by Jose Aruego

Thinking that there is such a thing as “too old” or “too late” is also about comparing myself with other artists. When I was an early childhood educator, one of my favorite books to read with students was Leo the Late Bloomer written by Robert Kraus and illustrated by Jose Aruego⁵. The book’s central character, a tiger named Leo, has not yet acquired the skills of reading, writing, drawing, talking, and eating. The illustrations tell us that the other animals are doing what Leo cannot yet do. Leo’s father is worried. “What if Leo never blooms?” he asks. Leo’s mother isn’t worried at all. “A watched bloomer never blooms!” is her refrain. In the end, of course, Leo blooms.

When I read Leo the Late Bloomer with my students, I was giving them this message: stop comparing yourself to your classmates. My message of non-comparison was for the benefit of students who thought that they were “behind” as well as for those who perceived that they were “advanced.” Just as we can develop a narrative of inferiority about being “behind” we can also develop a narrative of superiority about being “ahead,” neither attitude, in my opinion, helps us to fully love ourselves just as we are.

It seems that I am now in the position to counsel myself. I am envious of artists who are my age and, having started earlier in life, now have a thriving art practice and career. “If only I had a time machine,” I think half-jokingly, I would go back to my 30 year old self and say, “This career is not serving you! Quit now and let yourself have a creative life!” But I don’t have a time machine, of course, and in all seriousness, I understand that older also means that I have lots more experience. I can draw on this and a deeper self-knowledge to help me cut through many emotional and psychological barriers just like I am doing here and now. Besides, now I am happily married to an amazingly supportive spouse! I wouldn’t have had the economic freedom (or the supportive spouse) needed to switch to an art career in my 30’s.

Finally, it helps me to remember a core belief: that there is no recipe for a fulfilling life. We each find our own way. Once again, I keep my focus in on the journey, not a specific destination.

A drawing exercise from Tansy Hargan’s “Draw, Sleep, Draw” course teaches me to enjoy the journey

My favorite quote on the subject of starting something new at a later stage in life is from The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron:

“If I started now, do you know hold old I’ll be when I finally learn to play the piano?” “The same age as if you never started at all.”

Thank you again for reading! I’m not sure what my next topic will be about so stay tuned. Or, if you have any suggestions, I welcome them in the comments.

Warmly!

Alma

Do you know of other women artists who started after 50? Help me improve my art history knowledge and share in the comments.

1. I know that it’s physically and cognitively possible to make art as a 70, 80, even 90+ year old person so I want to clarify that it’s the fear of starting late that I am writing about.

2. To me, this is about capitalism and colonialism and WAY more than I want to “bite off” or deal with today. To this I simply say, “F**k capitalism! I deserve pleasure!” and will refer you to the book Pleasure Activism by adrienne maree brown.

3. This is also a biggie. I might write about it later, after I gain more understand. But for now, I just have to believe it’s possible. My own mother started a second career at 50 so she is a strong role model.

4. According to Cameron, we also say “I’m too young” or “I’m too poor” or whatever we can think of to avoid making the decision to become artist.

5. Jose Aruego and I share another thing in common - we’re both Filipino immigrants!