On The Other Side

Natalie, Age 65+

ON THE OTHER SIDE is a living portrait of the aging woman as her “youngness” slips away.
Based on a poem by Natalie H. Rogers, the film interweaves voice, animation and music to lay bare the essence of a woman’s vanishing youth; her aging process is irrevocable revealing a deeply fragile and touching reality.

Tova Beck-Friedman
http://tbfstudio.com/on_the_other_side.html
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Twitter: @tbfstudio

I would like to share with you my recent short video:

(please click on the link below)

https://vimeo.com/139826082

This entry was posted in 70candles, Our bodies, our health, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to On The Other Side

  1. This phase of aging, the loss of youth, is often ignored. People say well you have your health and your mental facilities so you are very fortunate. In that case one feels ungrateful and even narcissistic complaining about the loss of looks, flexibility and muscle tone. Nevertheless many older women suffer a saddnes when looking in the mirror and this event of aging should be acknowledged with conversation, openly without shame.

  2. Sandy says:

    Not the most uplifting movie/poem, but a very realistic description of what a lot of us feel when we get to our 70th birthday. It is good to know that others feel the same way. I do think that most of us will eventually transcend the shock and sadness that the movie describes, but going through this sadness phase is probably a necessary passage on the way to a brighter outlook.

  3. Blog Mavens says:

    ON THE OHER SIDE OF OVER THE HILL
    By Natalie Rogers, Age 65+

    (Meant to be read out loud even if you are alone.)

    When a beautiful woman sees
    Freshness fading
    As shadows hover
    over her glow
    Softness ….. spreading to
    Unwelcome places,
    A name ……..forgotten ,
    A thought misplaced ,
    Perhaps two ,
    One after the other

    Eventually she might suspect
    that she unknowingly
    Has moved
    And now lives
    On the other side of over the hill
    The old side…………
    The slow side………
    Where canes and walkers
    Rest in closets that held rackets
    skates and skis

    What can she do
    To stifle the screams
    Of no…I didn’t think
    Me ?
    I never dreamed
    So unfair and uncalled for
    How DARE MY SPARKLE LEAVE
    Without apology or
    A note ……… at least
    My youngness
    Gone ?
    Suddenly !
    Shockingly !
    Like a sudden squall
    Out of the blue
    That levels a town
    Or a train just missed
    You can barely see the outline
    In the distance

    You ! are excused from youngness
    Oh no,…….. not exactly excused
    Excused is like that day
    you had your period
    And the teacher then
    excused you from the gym
    Just a kindly “time out
    HA!”
    Look in the mirror lady!
    You are not excused
    You are EXEMPT
    No such thing as
    temporary wrinkles’
    No transient aches
    Or passing stiffness

    You are EXEMPT
    Exempt
    From previous ambition
    Hopes and dreams
    Exempt from your obsessions
    Passions and desires
    Exempt from madness ecstasy and excess
    Exempt from being ogled
    in a short skirt
    from sidelong glances
    someone’ s husband sent your way
    Those fabulous legs?
    Irrelevant

    And mam
    They call you mam
    When did it happen
    that young lady had
    morphed into mam
    A mam?
    You ?
    In storage?
    In the Archives ?
    Living memorabilia
    Now mature and
    sensible and wise
    and out of step
    The end of fun ?

    “Hey ,
    People you know are dying
    They think you look great
    ‘They bless each day they are alive
    You found a small brown spot on your wrist
    And you complain””
    “So “
    “Oh my God
    listen to me
    Someone you went to school with is dying !”

    “Well… she has her problems
    And I have mine”

    “Doesn’t it embarrass you to say that ?”
    “No not at all
    And I’ll tell you what bothers me

    On the other side of over the hill
    When you’ve stepped into elderliness
    It’s very quiet
    That! bothers me !
    Who , who can I talk to
    without appearing ridiculous
    Even narcissistic
    Living here alone
    On the other side of over the hill “

  4. Blog Mavens says:

    TALKING TO THE GHOST OF MY HUSBAND
    By Natalie Rogers, Age 65+

    Oh Harold
    My gorgeous one my one and only
    From time to time I think of you
    Your ashes
    those powdery remains
    Shifting back and forth
    Under the icy lake
    In front of my cottage high in the mountains

    You the man who made me a bride
    You the man who made me a widow
    You the man who made me a mother
    That gift
    Under protest of course
    A stunning rescue from a barron destiny
    Our baby girl delivered at the tipping point
    of opportunity
    My maternal moment
    Actualized in my eleventh hour

    Always my thoughts of you
    Nestled in shadows whisper
    “if only”
    a lonely occupation framed in my regret

    If only I had even once attempted to repair
    Your hobbled resistance
    pulling your hand away from your habitual pose
    That unyielding pose
    Your hands resting across your muscular chest

    If only I had tried to grab
    Even one hand tightly
    holding your fingers squeezing your fingers
    into my fingers
    As if my life depended on this bony connection
    Anatomy of skin over tendrils of sensation
    If only I had pulled with all of my
    Irresistible rage and love pulled you
    pulled you towards me
    And held you till you finally surrendered
    Giving up
    giving up
    Your struggle to unlove me
    If only I had tried to be kind

  5. Natalie Rogers says:

    Just a note, tomorrow I will get my computer back so I will send you the full text either Thursday or Friday. Meanwhile, I am uploading another poem titled ‘Confessions’.

  6. Natalie Rogers says:

    Dear friends Noel and Margaret, thank you so much for your attention to my poem. I am delighted that I have found an ear for my voice. I am taking the liberty of sending you the full text of my poem ‘On the Other Side’ just in case you’d like to read it over the next few days. Thank you.

  7. noel says:

    Hello Natalie from your old friend, Noel. Not quite on the other side yet, but about to climb up the hill and over it. Moving poem and so beautifully narrated. Keep dancing. I’ll never tell.

  8. Margaret says:

    Such a moving film, Natalie. Thank you for sharing it.
    Margaret

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