My sense of aging is that it is like making an ice sculpture in the desert. Every day there is a little less ice, but if you keep learning, you find something beautiful to make every day. It starts out as a mountainous sculpture and ends making a delicate cameo from a single snowflake. And of course, eventually the sands drink us all. But I will continue to learn, and grow, and sharpen my tools every day, and spend more time refining skills than cursing evaporation. The victory is not in immortality, but in finding timeless moments of flow, in which you are too engaged in creating beauty to moan for what is lost.