The Beginning

I have been agonising over my first ever blog post. Just like any new medium I try, I get tripped up on perfection or validity, but what I have realised is that I want to do this blog to open communication and I can’t do that until I just allow myself to be vulnerable and put down the raw thought. I have to begin somewhere.

There is a lot to preface how I got to the place where I am now, here in Cape May alone with my dog and cat, but I don’t want to go over all that. So, I will start with this all-consuming pandemic. This cruel year that made us all re-evaluate ourselves whether we were ready or not. 

COVID-19 hit and we all stopped. Just stopped whatever it was we were doing. Some have gone back to a semblance of normalcy, others have been absolutely devastated and very possibly may never recover, emotionally, financially, or even physically. I lay somewhere in the gelatinous middle. I am fortunate. I land on the healthier side of the range of devastation. Then again, what is this scale of normal and why do I believe that it is linear?

Here we are in October 2020 and so many people have gotten sick and died, there has been so much lost to continuous natural disasters, the political situation is the worst I have seen in my lifetime and god damn it, so many people of color still have to suffer for an ounce of justice. It’s a heaviness that makes it hard for me to get up in the morning. And yet, what else can I do?

I do get up each day. These days it is before the sun rises. I make lists. Each day. To remember. Ultimately though, I find the only thing that matters is that I continue to make art. That looks funny on my to-do lists, btw. 1. Make art, 2. Make something that matters, 3. Have lunch, 4. Make art, 5. Remember to look, 6. Walk the dog, 7. Say hi to the cat, 8. Cocktail hour, 9. Try to make sense of my life, 10. Make art.

The art I make doesn’t scream out injustice or move people to action even though that is ever-present on my mind these days. Every. Single. Day. I make art about nature; about the resilience, the hope, and the loving tragedy of death and rebirth that I find in my backyard. I cast this work out into the world like a fishing line, hoping it will touch someone and just perhaps bring some meaning where there is a void. This is what keeps me engaged with my day. I know I am not moving mountains, but just maybe, I will inspire someone to start shovelling.