Some artists, when faced with horror, immediately jump into creation. I am not one of them. When the world around me causes me to become filled with existential dread, I lack creative ideas.
I want to scream into the void that trans people are valid and wonderful. I want to shout until I am blue that disabled people have so much to give the world. I want to cry thinking about the immigrants and their children who want safety but are constantly met with violence, no matter where they live.
The presidential election hurt me. My ability to create started to shrink. I did what I could - I made some new art for the NJ Abortion Access Fund because I had already booked an event. I chose HiTOPS to receive profits from my Pride heart prints. But making art felt foreign.
I trusted in simplicity - making linoleum stamps of skulls and anatomical collages. I am creating again. But I still feel silly promoting my art. I feel broken. I feel hopeless. How can I ask others to spend money on non-essentials when the government is firing people and cutting benefits everywhere we look?
I don’t know. I need to eat. I need to pay bills. And that means making and selling art. But I struggle. And I hope I can find a way to keep creating and fighting and living.
I hope.
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