BECOMING INVISIBLE ISN'T WELCOME

Becoming invisible.

That is what getting old means in a society possessed by infatuation with youth.

I think about this because I am entering the winter of my life.
And it is taking some effort to embrace with the same abandon that youth can offer.

This story ends with a musician who found his way to a place to die that was his place of abandon.

The same person has done this video
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Uploaded by Thespadecaller

Text with the Thespadecaller video at youtube ~

A video featuring the art and paintings of Cuzona Allport, William-Adolphe Bouguereau, Berthe Morisot, Vincent Van Gogh, John Singer Sargent, and Spadecaller.

The lyrics are a traditional variation of a poem entitled The Brookside written by Richard Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton) c. 1850 and the tune was created by Barbara Barry (1984).

LYRICS:

I wandered by a brookside
I wandered by a mill
I could not hear the water
The murmuring it was still
Not a sound of any grasshopper
Nor the chirp of any bird
But the beating of my own heart
Was the only sound I heard

The beating of my own heart
Was the only sound I heard

Then silent tears fast flowing
When someone stood beside
A hand upon my shoulder
I knew the touch was kind
He drew me near and nearer
We neither spoke one word
But the beating of our own two hearts
Was the only sound I heard

The beating of our own two hearts
Was the only sound I heard

Click post title to another video by Thespadecaller
called Pink Floyd If