How do we artists and writers respond to the world, now?

Reflections on adding value, and meaningful work

There’s a lot that I thought would not get worse that has, to do with climate change, politics, quality of life, cost of living, mental health, social isolation, and happiness. Maybe you feel the same—in fact, I’m sure enough that I won’t explain further.

What could meaningful work be in this moment? The answer that comes most quickly to me is, Work that moves people. Moves people away from hate, social isolation, and intolerance. Moves people towards understanding, togetherness, and love.

Novel-writing

Also, work that adds value, rather than offering neutrality, ignoring dark days of our unlucky neighbours on this earth, or diminishing the value of the online experience. I wonder, if anything I write that doesn’t help, hinders; simply by adding to the mass of information we have to root through to find truth and thoughtfulness and helpfulness.

Small batch and slow fashion designer and maker

joy mao

wrote, of her interior thoughts early in her practice, “what am I even doing, making my little things, on this burning earth” (before writing about how an arts residency moved her to think differently about her contribution to her community, in the short and beautiful essay about her creative practice, Making Sense of the Mess.")

In this moment, I, like many, am discouraged by what feels like a near-total failure of our past efforts, in fighting for action on things like climate, fascism, poverty, women’s, civil, and LGBTQIA+ rights. Like many, I have been wondering what will actually help, and I have come to several conclusions:

-community

-truth

-‘dropping the rope’ with money, corporations, hustle

-a values based life and arts practice

-softness, slowness, carefulness, thoughtfulness, tenderness…

I think we are missing an interconnectedness that used to protect us. I think social media dissuades us from being truthful about our messiness, our pain, our realities. I think money as a motivator blocks better motivators, like ‘kindness’, ‘love’, and ‘care for our fellow humans’.

What would you do with your arts practice (or daily life) if you didn’t need money for food, heating, healthcare, and shelter?

Reading in Aya & Suki, a queer-owned cafe

Wanting my life and arts practice to be values-based isn’t new to me. I suspect it won’t be new to you, either. Personally, not only because of how the world is now but also because of how I am now, I think the time has come to truly ‘drop the rope’ on aspects of modern life that diminish its worth, and to commit to gentler ways and a world steeped in the practice of thinking about what we, as humans, value.

Finally, the idea of softness (which

Margeaux Feldman

writes so intelligently on in her newsletter

CARESCAPES

) calls to me.

Giving myself the past month to gently think about my writing and art (and to practice “Napuary”, which I encourage you to join me in next year) has clarified that I want to have an arts practice that reflects more closely who I am, what I love, and what I want to do with my time here on earth.

This is the year of the wood snake; the kind I grew up watching slip across woodland paths before me, disappearing beneath fronds of fern. Or looking for shed skins and knowing they had been there. The year upon us, this feels like a moment to shed skin. To keep what is the very core, and let go of what is no longer of service.

This is what I will be working on in 2025.

Imbibing, currently:

“Emily, I’m Sorry” by boygenius on repeat,

Deadwind on Netflix for trillionth time,

Offline with Jon Favreau podcast in the mornings,

and hot cacao with just a splash of coconut milk.

At “Epilogue”, an event series run by Jo.readsalot on Instagram