It gets worse – the news, our realities, the dangers to people we love and people we have never met. Those who were once marginalized are now targeted; those who were once excluded are now directly in the floodlights of hate, violence and policy-level discrimination.
The world feels like the harshest of brilliant lights, 2017 a long trek through the desert. And like any journey, it is no safer to turn around than to continue forward (aside from the fact that it’s impossible to go back, I get that too). So I’m working to slather on the artistic equivalent of SPF1000 sunscreen: a good, thick layer of art, relentlessly reapplied. Such that I may go back out into the trek, at least slightly protected.
The art that builds us up might be in a museum or gallery, but it might not. It might be created by a famous historical figure, but maybe it’s done by your neighbor with a special passion. The definitions should be broad, underscored by the key takeaway: does it work for you?
Here are three things that are making up my sunscreen today:
Pumpkin Art – Around the world this month, harvest festivals will inspire all kinds of cool displays. Some go for the creepy and ghoulish, the cute and clever, the simple and classic. The one I saw recently in photos? Jaw-dropping. I don’t know Kevin or his neighbor(s) but his thread on Twitter stopped me in my tracks. Man-oh-man, this must be incredible to see in person: Pumpkin Dragon!
Perfectly Delightful Story – I just finished Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, an amazing novel that is equal parts entertaining, delightful, tragic and uplifting. I almost didn’t make it in the beginning, because I was reading another book with an extremely quirky main character, and I didn’t know if I could handle two. So glad I did, though. Eleanor’s frankness, intense skills of observation, and utter lack of life experience make her instantly likeable and interesting. She’s that classic person we care and worry about, hoping she’ll make out okay. And she does far more than that. As someone who writes novels, I was impressed by the ease with which the author, Gail Honeyman, molds a complex story into just the right mix of good, bad, ugly and redemptive. Could not put it down, and I miss Eleanor already.
Soothing Woodwork – My dad introduced me to the master work of Sam Maloof, famous for his wooden rocking chairs and furniture. Maloof created pieces that look like peacefulness embodied. Smooth, always madly respectful of the natural grains of the wood he chose, with gentle curves that look like they might melt if you’re not careful. They are far too expensive for most anyone to own, and sadly, Maloof passed away. But just knowing these exist, and appreciating their artisty, makes me happy. The Smithsonian article has a few photos.
How do you bolster yourself in these harsh days? What artistry speaks to you? Whatever that is, slather it on — the more, the better.
