On elections and making art
On elections and making art
keep going
Bad result, make art!
I get why this statement is so obnoxious. Just advise folks to move on? Is this Substack’s version of hustle culture? How do you say #privilege with anything more trite?
Let me try to defend the sentiment with three tangents.
What else should we do? Making art is unequivocally better than doom-scrolling (or gloat-trolling). This world hasn’t actually changed today—a guy just won a four-year lease on a building at the edge of a continent. You’re not that dude. If you should’ve been making art on Monday then you should make art on Wednesday too.
In a world of competing truths, I hope you believe there is something special with your truth. Make art that lives in this truth and let us partake through your art.
Most importantly, making art shifts your world. It might not be a direct path to enlightenment like reading Spinoza, but if you aren’t meditating under a waterfall, then mashing on paper is a fine way to explore the truth.
By all means, be human. Feel the dread (or elation). Curse the gods. Then hug the kids and guinea pig. Shit, shower, and shave. And get to work. We need you to make it.
,
polar
spinning
round
and
round
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“In a world of competing truths, I hope you believe there is something special with your truth. Make art that lives in this truth and let us partake through your art.”
Very true, Justus! Time to Double-down.
Indeed, continue making art. Wednesday morning, I had not been that angry, disillusioned, and frustrated in my life. I dreaded leaving the house for fear of what I would do or someone would do to me. As the day wore on, I worked on my Substack writings, played my keyboard, knitted on a project, said some prayers I hadn't prayed in years, and sat in the sunshine watching the birds drink at the birdbaths. By the time my husband dared to return home to his angry wife, I had cooked dinner and put a smile on my face. I felt a lot better. The signs and flags are coming down in the neighborhood. In time that name will disappear from my view and consciousness. And four years from now, there will be new people to vote for. And I'll continue doing my art. Thank you.