Finding words is a challenge today, five days after insurrectionists tried to violently attack and disrupt our democratic process, egged on by a sitting president. I’m shocked, stunned, speechless. Having a hard time shuffling through tasks and chores and January plans. I’m sort of sure we’ll be OK. But never in my six decades have I questioned that our democracy would continue — until now. I’ve always taken it for granted, even if unhappy with voters’ choices and flaws in how we govern. Now, I’m rattled. Now, I’m unsure of our future. While I do believe we will get past this dark moment as a country, I have no pollyanna notions about how hard this will be and it was already severely challenging. I’m dodging puddles of grief and loss and isolation and loneliness. And facing worries for the country I didn’t know I loved so much. So today I counsel myself to employ gentleness and kindness toward myself and others. If foggy I will turn on the headlights. If knocked sideways I will get up and keep going and find my path again. I will keep taking sheets of paper out in my studio and “painting out” my overwhelming feelings. And if all I can manage is to vacantly stare at ocean waves at a Marin beach, that’s what I will do. As I talk to friends about these events, I know I am not alone in my stupefaction, which I just decided is my new favorite word. Tenderness and love for ourselves and each other will help us get through this. And rage.
22″ x 30″ pencil, pastel, ink, watercolor, acrylic, oil pastel, crayon on paper = $795