A PRAYER TO ARTISTS, ONE WEEK IN
Dear Curious and Creative Potential Prophets:
We’re ready for you.
Let’s be clear:
Art doesn’t immediately change things.
We have to wrap our brains around that,
Lest we get too full of ourselves.
Art doesn’t stop violence, or erase pain,
Or eradicate evil.
It doesn’t turn back time or protect bodies.
Art doesn’t do big things,
And that’s why no one will freaking sustainably fund it.
Art is actually a very small thing that does very small things.
It’s a gathering of tiny revolutions that sustains the larger ones.
Its power comes from being miniscule and undetectable.
Art doesn’t stop the violence, but it starts the questioning of violence.
Art doesn’t erase the pain, but it names the pain.
Art doesn’t eradicate evil, but it tells the queer stories of another way.
It stops time and protects souls, because its power is microscopic,
And the Empire only knows how to deal with things it thinks it sees.
You will start to create something today, because you feel galvanized,
And then you will hate it tomorrow,
And then you will think you have nothing to offer,
And then you will stop creating for a few days,
And then something teensy will spark,
And then the whole cycle will start again.
This is the reality of tiny things in a world that only responds to gigantic, blustery, bloated things.
This is the plight of prophecy. And it truly sucks.
But my cat just jumped on this keyboard and typed out this:
And if my cat, who stays pretty apolitical most days,
Is taking this opportunity to use the devastation of this week
And create something out of it,
I can only imagine the astonishing things you have up your sleeves.