In light of the events of this week, I’m struggling to see the point in making art. How can I tell stories of hope and optimism, of good versus evil, in this world? What’s the point? It seems that hate always wins.
Evan, Portland, OR
Dear Evan,
I woke up on Wednesday morning in London, just in time to see the victory speech. I watched it for a few minutes then put my phone away. I made a coffee and meditated, like I always do, and then sat down at my desk, like I always do.
I painted for an hour or so. Nothing profound or with any meaning: I was literally just doing some value tests that I needed to do, that soon went in the bin. But in that hour, I enjoyed laying down smooth washes of vivid watercolour, carefully following the beads of liquid pigment as they sauntered over the paper.
For a short while, I was fully present in that quiet moment.
I wrote recently about how the world needs good stories, now more so than ever. This week is proof of the corrosive and corrupting power of bad stories.
But how should we respond?
I don’t think we need to tell stories of hope and optimism - or indeed to tell stories with any intention. As soon as you declare such an intention you are writing a morality play, an op-ed in stage make-up; it’ll come across like one of those anti-drug raps from the nineties: (“My name is Dylan and I’m here to say..!”)
If you are burning to tell people how they should think or feel, these days you’d be better off talking on TikTok anyway.
Instead, I suggest you write (or whatever it is that you do) because it brings you into the one thing that never changes in this ceaselessly churning world: the present. Find the silence and then listen until you hear your heart telling you what it wants to make.
The art you create will be unique and brilliant and deeply flawed — just like you, Evan! Just like me.
I believe deeply that these are the stories we must finally start finding the courage to tell each other.
Until another Sunday soon,
