I feel like I’ve been falling all day, on the verge of tears every time I think about Dallas or Minnesota or Baton Rouge Orlando. Nothing seems to be able to drive them completely from my thoughts, and I’m not sure if I want them gone. I don’t want to forget the victims. I do not want to withdraw from the community of other people who want to make the world more peaceful, but this morning all I felt was helpless sorrow.
About 9:30, I turned off my cell phone, disconnected from the world, and went into an art class. The class was Abstract Painting for realist landscape artists. It’s the first I’ve taken since high school, but I felt subdued as I walked in. I needed to switch gears.
As we talked about theory and technique, I felt something coming back to life inside. We went outside for a few semi-guided drawing exercises, and the power of creating began to pull me up, feeding the need to reconnect as well as the idea that positive change is still possible.
Our last exercise incorporated contour drawing and a few moments of letting go to draw what we were feeling. When I looked down I realized I had drawn anger.
I knew the anger would remain for some time, but that was okay so long as it only informed and did not halt the reconnecting and contributing to life.