Late last night while I was at home quietly working on this drawing of vintage lace on black paper, a man with an assault rifle fired onto a crowd of people at an outdoor concert in Las Vegas, killing more than 50 and injuring hundreds more. “The worst mass killing in US history” they said. “No apparent terrorist connection” they said. “Only in America” is what many of us are thinking. This event isn’t a new phenomenon by any means, and it is only the “worst” until something worse happens.

Every time there is a crisis in the news I have to ask myself “What is the point of this art that I am making?” I see news of police brutality, racial injustice, political corruption, the failure of our current health system, or natural disasters such as wildfires and hurricanes, and I am sitting at home making a drawing of lace. I have to wonder whether there is something more I could/should be doing as an artist to address the needs of a hurting world. There are people who organize their whole lives around political activism, or medicine, or climate change research, or disaster relief, just to name a few admirable vocations, but I do not feel called to give up art and go do any of those things. There are artists who focus their art around issues of social justice, and I admire and respect what they do, but that is also not who I am as an artist. I paint images of plants. I draw mandala designs. I carve figures in stone. I am attracted to things that I find beautiful and I want to share them in some way. But how can I justify being an artist when there are so many other worthy causes that need support?

Back in December of 1990 shortly after our son was born, I was at home watching news of the Gulf War and feeling strangely detached from everything that was happening in the outside world. I realized that because I had an infant to take care of, that was the central and most important thing in my life at that moment. I felt for all of the people who were dying in that war, and I hoped and prayed that my son would never have to participate in warfare, but beyond that I knew that there was little I could do except to be with my young children and provide them with a sense of security and safety in an insecure world. Fast forward to twelve years later, and I was on a stepladder painting the second floor hallway of our home when my husband called from work to say that there had been a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York. At first, none of us knew what that meant, exactly. Was this an act of war? Would there be an escalation of aggressions in response? Might there already be weapons aimed at a city near where we lived? Did it even make sense to keep on painting the hallway? Well, I already had a tray and roller full of paint, so I decided to keep going until I got to a reasonable stopping point. I went to visit with my anxious neighbor for a while, and together we watched as images of the Twin Towers crashing to the ground were replayed again and again on the television screen. But being worried and concerned are helpful feelings only if they can propel us to some useful action. In this case, there was nothing practical to be done except to keep my hands busy, so I went back to finish up the painting of the hallway before the kids got home from school. Life is always this – an odd mixture of the wonderful and the terrible, the beautiful and the ugly, the meaningful and the mundane.

In the past few weeks we have had news of the terrible devastation from hurricanes in Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands. A humanitarian crisis requiring massive relief efforts, followed by an appalling lack of leadership or appropriate response from our highest government officials. Now, another mass shooting. What is an artist to do?

• I continue to make art because it is what I do, and who I am.
• I make art because it is a gift that I have been given, and it would seem wrong not to exercise that gift.
• I make art because it satisfies my soul and gives me pleasure on a daily basis.
• I make art because part of my livelihood depends on it. In a lifestyle where there is no regular paycheck, every little bit of freelance income counts. And before getting income from art, one must take the time to produce art.
• I make art because it brings enjoyment to others.
• I make art because in a world full of ugliness and hatred and injustice, there is also much beauty to be shared and celebrated.
• I make art not as a direct response to important issues, nor as an escape from thinking or caring about them. I make art because it is what I do best, and I want to offer my best to the world.

I am well aware that in saying these things, I am operating from a position of privilege. I am white, well-educated, and reasonably able-bodied. I’ve had many opportunities to travel. I could have taken any number of other career paths but I made the choice to follow this one. In spite of my struggles to make a living as an artist, I own the computer that I am using to typing this blog and at least a portion of the comfortable house that I work from. I have knowledge, practical skills, and a community of family and friends to lean on when necessary. There is a part of me that is still wondering how I might leverage my art to make a difference in places where so much need still exists. I’ll definitely be thinking about that as I start my next lace drawing.