I feel like a pale version of myself and have felt this way for months. Winter does that to people. So does political virtiol and social upheaval.
Twenty years ago, I’d have taken to the streets in protest, but today, given the firehose of outrages, I wouldn’t know what to write on my cardboard sign. Outrageous headlines sizzle across my laptop screen like multi-headed dragons. So, I look for diversions. I try and keep moving. I go to the gym, walk, dance ballet, work in the yard, shop for groceries, come home and cook.
My friend, Susan, recently re-introduced me to my sketch pad, a fabulous diversion. Susan is a real, for-hire, portrait artist who paints in oils. She kindly invited me to make art with her—twice at Jordan Lake Dam, and most recently in her studio.
She set me up in a comfy chair on the second floor of her old farmhouse with its cherished northern light—light that doesn’t change value as the sun tracks across the sky.
We draw actual objects as opposed to doodling out of our heads, so I brought a wooden elephant from home. Across the room, Susan immersed herself in the plump essence of a baby bok choy. For a blessed hour, I focused soley on dark and light values, doing my best to coax an inanimate being to life.
Bob and I came of age in an era of moral clarity in which good people protested against racism, sexism, and war. Fast forward to now, and we are mired in the same tar pit of might-makes-right, but we lack the exhilarating ferver—the focus—we had fifty, or even twenty years ago.
In my defense, I say, “I don’t know which dragon head to go after,” and “It’s all so fuzzy, this shit storm of outrages,” and “What good would it do?” and, “If I think about it too hard, I’ll lose my mind. How will that help anyone?” and “Best I keep my head above water, best I focus on the people close to me.”
I often think about the good Germans, about how they turned blind eyes to Hitler’s rise in power. See How Hitler Dismantled a Democracy in 53 Days. I used to think a Nazi holocaust could never happen here in the United States.
But now, with talk of imprisoning migrants at Guantanamo, I’m not so sure. And so, like German citizens of the ’30s, I see what’s happening and avert my eyes, focused instead on making soup and drawing elephants.
6 replies on “Values”
I remember coming home from college in 1982 wearing a “Bread Not Bombs” pin. My father scoffed and sneered, “Bread Not Bombs,” with a hateful “harumph.” I didn’t know what to make of it then. Now, I suppose his remark was that of an experienced liver of life toward a naive college student awakening to the injustices of the world. I lost that pin decades ago, but I often finding myself longing for it and its simple plea.
I love that story, Kathryn. I guess the world has been this way for a long time, but it feels especially unjust right now.
I just watch my squirrels and birds and ignore the news as best I can. Me getting angry over things isn’t going to create change in anyone but myself. While we are not the ones in control of the country, we are in control of ourselves, so my advice…do what makes you happy and don’t stress over things you can’t change.
Thank you, Steph! I won’t feel so guilty about taking pleasure in the mundanities of my entitled life.
You’re not alone! National stuff is gonna be a crazy shit show for the next two years at least. I’m trying to remember that much of politics is local. We can’t change what’s happening in Washington but we can stay engaged in our communities. The division is the enemy – my neighbors are most likely voting red but they’re good people. So how to keep engaged to avoid the dehumanization of extreme politics? I’m volunteering for the county waste and recycling board. And talking to my neighbors. Hang in there. No shame in enjoying some comfort.
L
MS
Good for you, Matt! I will also stay engaged. My neighbors are all good people, too. We’re all in this together. Division does no one any good.