Creativity, Art, and the Ongoing, Upcoming End of of the World
How does one you focus on art as the world crumbles around you? How can I justify continuing to work on my novel, to paint and draw and pursue my little creative endeavors, when the very things I thought defined not only country but society I was raised in have dissipated like mist in the morning sun? I don't know. I get lost in the worlds I attempt to create but then I look up and see the pain, the terror, the hate. All so widespread, so unacceptable at the same time as they are excused by pundits and lawmakers and strangers and family. The things done in my country or around the world in my country's name fill me either with a sense of hopelessness or rage so deep it seems to shake me at my very core. To vibrate within me in either a slow, dull or quick, rapid resonance. When humanity matters less than money, less than the expansionist instincts of the very worst kind of people, how can I react but with either of those emotio...
