I’ve been singing this song since late 2016. Make art. Sing, paint, cook, sculpt or write. Knit something. Re-purpose some of the junk in your garage.
Just make art.
We need all the pretty we can get now.
Not of destruction.
I refuse to believe that.
Two years ago, the day after the presidential election, I was despondent.
Life anxiety makes me feel like we’re being shot out of a cannon after waiting in the barrel for a million years.