where those of us now over half a century old
can share our creation and appreciation of art
when we were young and now we’re not
Art is a virtually essential
part of being human.
Ordinary people, making their best effort or unable to stop themselves, sing, dance, make music, tell stories, and create images, as well as appreciating art far greater than their own, looking, listening and reading. Art is in and around us all our lives, like nature.
Older people often have a different feel for art as they reflect on art in their past life and, perhaps, continue or renew their artistic efforts as life ahead draws in.
50plusArtSpace is for such people, and anyone interested in art, which they’ve appreciated and created (perhaps unwittingly) in the course of their lives. It was started by two over-50s (actual ages 81 and 75) in July 2020.
is updated each month.
If you’re at least 50 years old (sorry, youngsters – your time will come as demi-centenarians) and would like to share some of your old or new artwork (literary, visual, musical, other) or your reflections on art in your life, write to CONTACT AND SUBMISSIONS in English or Spanish.
Literary work (poetry, stories, short novels, essays) can be in either English or Spanish.
Welcome! to the August 2020 update of 50plusArtSpace There are already 6 contributions from the first issue of 50plusArtSpace 50plusArtSpace in July, 2020 (see Catalogue), and this month there are now 5 new contributions:
The most recent contributions
Autumn in Spring
There was burning
in the orange groves
wood smoke caught
in my throat
stopped my heart
as if I’d glimpsed
a long lost love;
Autumn in Spring raged
and I was confused
beneath a blue sky
that willed larks
above the dirty haze;
below, a dual heartache
the scents of smoke
and blossom mingled
made mockery of time
and all things cyclical.
From Adrian Rumble
(1945 - )
From Nicholas Manning (1945 - )
Life was good in Iran, at least for a young Brit in my position, and for many Iranians, but not all. I got on well with my mostly Iranian colleagues and spent some interesting, agreeable, and even fun times with them. I always felt very secure in Iran and did a lot of walking, getting to know the city, even going deep into the Bazaar area. The Shah was continuing a policy of ‘westernization’ started by his father, Reza Shah Pahlavi, when he came to power in 1925. The Pahlavi Dynasty finally ended with the Islamic Revolution in 1979. Looking back, I suppose it was inevitable, but at the time, I never thought about the possibility, I was too busy enjoying a dinner of blinis and caviar at Leon’s Grill Room, or drinking Screwdrivers on the terrace of the Hilton Hotel overlooking the city, or going dancing in a disco on Pahlavi Avenue. With the rush to modernize the country, fuelled by income from the vast crude oil reserves, the Shah and the elite of Iran were distancing themselvesfurther and furtherfrom the rest of the population. Any dissidence was being firmly quashed by Savak, the Shah’s secret police, whilst at the same time the people were listening more and more to what their mullahs were saying at prayers on Friday. I often reflect on one example of how by the mid-1970s a vast sector of the population was being left behind in the modernization process. With so much cargo arriving by ship at the Persian Gulf ports, there was an urgent need for more trucks to move the goods inland. That need was covered by importing vast numbers of Mercedes and White tractor-trailer units, but who was going to drive them? The government didn’t initiate a massive driver training programme for Iranians, no, instead they brought in thousands of drivers from South Korea and Pakistan!
