This story starts with a hangover. More accurately, it starts with the fifteenth anniversary of 9/11 and the documentary on it that Phil chose for us to watch, which made me sad and angry and sad all over again which led to a few strong drinks and finished with initiating a re-watch of Firefly (which I’ve seen so many times that I reserve it for those times when I am very, very sad). I woke with the mother of all hangovers which lasted for more than two days.
We were talking about the various 9/11 memorials, all of the various things to fill the space at Ground Zero and to me all of them are small, low to the ground. It’s as though we no longer want to hold our heads up. None of them replace what was lost, and I think that is incredibly sad. We should have decided to build the biggest, tallest building in the world, set a new record, put one finger up against hatred and ignorance that went all the way up to the sky. Sheath that fucker in red, white and blue glass, make it the shiniest goddamned building in the world.
It may surprise those who know me that I am very patriotic in a way…I love the country that I was born to. I love what we stood for, what I was told America was all about when I was a child. I believed in our goodness and our bravery. And you know what? I hate feeling guilty for that now.
The swing to the far right over the last decade or so has changed us so profoundly that I’m not sure if we can ever get back again. The decent, salt of the earth people that I grew up believing in have been replaced by the Tea Party, the deep corruption in our government, and the rabid bigotry and hatred of Donald Trump and his supporters. I can’t say that I believe in America without somehow feeling as though I’m aligning myself with the dregs of humanity, flying their freak flag of hate loud and proud. I am instead silent, and sad.
Anyway…back to the mother of all hangovers, the very Kali of alcohol-induced regret.
I’ve taken some baby steps back to my art, trying to find the enjoyment in it that I used to have. And so each morning I’ve been doing a speedpaint type of thing (except, you know, not really painting). One project per morning, finish by lunch no matter what. These were the first two days (the sci fi one really needs more detail work, which I will do because I can’t bear to leave it like this).
3 thoughts on “Baby Steps”
I like your idea about building a structure to rival what was destroyed. Nice way to stick it to them. Knock us down, but we get right back up!
You and I have very similar views on how we feel about this country. I joined the US Air Force and served during Desert Storm. I joined because I wanted to serve my country. I’m pretty embarrassed with how it’s degraded. And it’s sad that we Veterans put our life on the line only to receive poor medical benefits as the government’s thank you. Private organizations and general people on the street treat Veterans better than our own government does.
But that last statement gives me some hope. 40 years ago, Veterans were ridiculed as being baby killers. Today, people thank me for serving and it never fails to bring a tear to my eye. That means things can change. We can get better. I think it has to be a grup effort, though.
Don’t stop your art. You’re amazing!
Thank you, Arial – I think that is the key, we can all get better, make things better if we come together to do so. Divisiveness is killing us.
Agreed! United we stand…divided we fall.