I am over here with 100% futility.
Ok, lie, I did sneak in a stop at a Maryland Costco because the armful of hard alcohol I dragged from that building to the trunk of my car might actually be salvation at some point in the very near (immediate) future. So. There’s that.
I was originally going to get up early and write a list of things I was doing instead of *** today, but between driving myself to DC and working my ass off at not weeping myself into terrified despondency, I fell behind. The drive up let me sort a feeble amount, though, and here is what I have:
Read this status from https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fpattonoswalt%2Fposts%2F10154565362887655&width=500‘ target=”_blank”>Patton Oswalt.
Do the things in there.
Also, read. Read a lot. Read from people you think have nothing new to tell you. Read about students breaking barriers and setting records and read about your small hometown loving people in new, loud, unquestionable, ways, and then smile the fuck outta the rest of that moment.
Be sad. There’s a lot of shock woven into the anger now, and sometimes that comes across as ‘who could be surprised by this? who is that fucking clueless?’ I know it comes across like that because I’ve said it like that (maybe I’m an exceptional asshole, though). But this sadness is sticky and so is the shock and so even though we have no business standing agape at the fuckery we (ahem white folks) have brought upon ourselves, we’re feeling that anyway, and shaming that grief will get us seven paces behind the shit crusted rear of whatever shiny tragedy most recently happened.
Create. Patton says to support the creativity and beauty and love that our new administration shuns, and he is so right. But, don’t forget to put your own color into that teetering sphere. One of the reasons art is so crucial to society is not just because of the heart and mind expansion the experts in each field can give us, but because of the depth and stretch in empathy our own creative attempts afford us all, even in our most clueless, unpracticed, moments. We need our own art to stay alive just as much as we need the art of our history and our future to stay alive. We are our own histories.
So, practice. Rehearse. Perform. Write. Create. Don’t stop. Put your color out there until it shouts its naked need all on its own.