I have been sitting here tonight wondering what the hell just happened in the last two weeks. I mean really in the last four years since Donald Trump took office, but the last two weeks have been a strange waking dream. As if the past four years were a living nightmare, the past two weeks have been a surreal dive into the culmination of so many bizarre energies and chaos vector colliding into a near cosmically engineered intersection of disruption and shear bafflement. We live in a time when every major institution and every perceived safe guard of moral compass has given way to a lust for power that is yet fueled by a strangely uncoordinated writhing of egos and suffering. Not to paint a dark picture or anything, haha, but shit has been so weird, and hopefully we have hit a precipice where enough people are culminating and projecting powerful enough intentions and goodness that we can roll a new wave over a soup of spasming time.
I watched four websites like a hawk for four days, unhealthy undertaking at best. It was not something I was proud of. It is not something I am proud of. I wish I had been in the studio working, thinking, putting image to idea, putting mark or paint stroke too feeling, searching fibers of materials and hinting at the wear of time in its evidence of cyclical endurance. I wish I had been making cartoons, or taking photos of places and people I find fascinating, not looking at unmoving numbers and constant media opium that I found myself anxious to the core in my inability to turn away from. I didn’t do the things I wished I had done, I just endured the fearful reality that was unfolding in front of me until it began to look a bit more optimistic. And still I am not fully settled.
I worked on get out the vote calls, writing postcards, even made a Fuck You Thom Tillis flyer. And yet, I still sat feeling powerless and frozen in the end. Not to say I am not happy about that which I did lend a hand with, but that I want to embrace my practice and my purpose more deeply moving forward. I want to revisit, or visit for the first time, a new peak of productivity and connective energy in creative output that I fills me with vibrancy again. And not a peak that simply rolls back down, but levels off at the entry to another peak. What I believe this really is is not a climb at all, but a true inertia in the forward motion of that which is the artist connected to the art and the life that exists found in creative power and acceptance of a purposeful existing, moving along forward so as to not have the opportunity to fall, but only to always push, evolve, and grow. The elections were insane. I am working to feel like a part of something larger than this again, and yet I now understand that my connection to this thing is worth incorporating for the positive possibilities of what is to come.
