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