Go Out and Make Things

I took a break from Substack during August for multiple reasons. Maybe at some point I’ll get into those reasons, but for now, I’d like to talk about the good stuff that August included. I got to watch some good movies, and I read some good comics. I was able to spend an entire month with my precious senior boy instead of having to say goodbye. We were able to have more time with him, and he’s still with us.

I saw Superman in July, and in August, I saw Honey Don’t! And Jaws. I also watched the first half of Wednesday’s second season. The comics I’m reading are the current Absolute Wonder Woman, Absolute Batman, and Absolute Superman series.

Mainly, those are the things that kept me afloat during my exhausting month of August.

What I keep finding is that in the hardest moments, I’m turning to art over and over again. Shows, movies, comics, books, music, podcasts, video games, dance—it’s all art.

Art that I feel like help me escape in times where I need an escape.

I’ve been struggling to read regular books ever since O’Malley died in December. She would read with me. Once she was in my life, that was one of our favorite shared activities. She’d sit on my chest or stomach or sleep against my side while I’d read. Reading was something I shared with Mom, too, before O’Malley came into my life.

Right after Mom died, O’Malley and I spent those two weeks in March 2020, when I had Covid the first time, reading. We read so many books then, while I was sick and scared of whether I’d live or die because we didn’t know anything about Covid yet. Other than a lot of people were dying from the illness I had and that I was having a VERY hard time breathing.

But I had O’Malley and I had books.

With her death, reading went from a warm, cozy activity to an activity that feels cold, lonely, and sad. I’m trying to reclaim reading, trying to remember that even when I shared it with just my mom, I would read alone and then go talk about it to her. There was a time when I did read alone. It was an escape. It was a quiet, warm embrace.

I’ve read a few books, but I haven’t read very many. I’ve read a lot of comics because of the way they are not quite the same as reading a novel. When I was down and out in 2019, comics were one of my only comforts. I shared those with O’Malley, but they were a temporary relief from pain and not feeling great, and for O’Malley and me, they never became the same as curling up with a good novel in terms of it being “our activity” in the same way.

Due to this, reading has been hard. However, my friend recommended My Friends by Fredrick Bachman, and I’ve enjoyed his books in the past. This one is no different from those in terms of enjoyment. I love the story, the characters, the exploration of grief and being the ones left behind—both from dead loved ones and by the world moving forward while you grieve—and it’s just so beautifully told. The whole book is wonderful.

I love the way Bachman writes. But the subject matter is so difficult.

Anyway, I could go on about the book way more, but I’m off track now.

What I mean to say is even the hard art is good. It helps to process feelings, to work through the difficult emotions, to build empathy and compassion.

Art is all of that. No matter the form it takes.

I hope my reader’s block is ending now that I’ve read this lovely but difficult book, because I need art in my life.

I need all of the art that I can get my hands on so I can get back to making art. I have been struggling to create, because I’ve felt defeated, scared, worn out, and I’ve been stuck in survival mode in so many different ways.

The State of Everything, along with personal life concerns with Roscoe’s health, my day job, my health, my laptop deciding it would also like to get in line to be replaced (which hasn’t happened yet, troubleshooting has prolonged the inevitable)…I feel like I’ve been fighting to just survive and keep any semblance of peace in tact.

No matter what’s been going on, I’ve turned to art and exercise/body movement to keep myself from coming undone completely.

We need art, and we need to make art. Keep making art, keep engaging with art.

Stay safe.

That’s all I have today.

Thank you for reading.