We're Still Alive

November 13, 2016 Earnest Painter

I have not posted regularly in the past couple of weeks. To be honest, I haven't taken adulthood very seriously until recently, and I don't quite know how to deal with some of it. I've had anxiety issues for the past few weeks, which I cannot really explain. I think I was anemic for a while, and I'm probably still not 100% recovered from that. The anxiety seems to have started around the same time, so I think they're related. Also, I don't deal well with futility, which is what my daytime job is about, to a great extent. When true anxiety hits, I have zero creativity, and I've only recently learned this. I'm working toward straightening all that out, because life is too short.

Then, this week hit. My father was in the hospital, the election (which was a shocker, no matter which side one was on) and then the very next day I learned that somebody very close to me has been struggling with his own demons and I was unaware how big the problem was. My underlying anxiety + a rough week = not much writing.

So, maybe I'll play the game of counting my blessings. Rather than just counting all of the thousands of reasons I should be happy and feel blessed (we are truly living in a wealthy nation and I have it super easy compared to other places) I will pick one thing and contemplate that.

Art. I had the fortune of having an art teacher in high school who encouraged me. In college I didn't care enough about anything to finish the degree or pursue the career, but it laid a foundation of sorts for me. Then around 15 years ago I met Barry Perez, who has introduced me to an aspect of the art world that I would have otherwise not known. He has been a professional artist for 30 years and he ran a sort of circuit of art festivals around the country, getting to know other artists in the process. I have benefited from these years by getting to know some of those friends and I have collected a bit of their artwork along the way. Also, now that I live with him I have the benefit of all of the art he's collected. We eat every night on artisan-made ceramic plates and bowls. I have hand-blown glasses. Artwork is on every wall and in every corner. Now, I think about the people who made the things I see and use, rather than the department store they came from.

I'll post some images below of items that I've seen recently – not necessarily things that I own but things that I like. This will make for a happy post.

Election Night

November 10, 2016 Earnest Painter

On my way home from work yesterday I stopped at the corporate coffee shop to get a pumpkin spice-flavored caffe latte. Then I listened to NPR news on the drive home. Yesterday was election day, the day that we were supposed to elect the first female President of the United States.

All evening I was glued to the radio. I had it going on my phone in my pocket while I walked around my house. I was looking nonstop at NPR's election map. At first I was a little disconcerted that Hillary wasn't ahead, but I've never watched an election this closely and only a couple of states had been called.

Somewhere around 8 o'clock I realized that things were not likely to turn around. So, I retired to my bedroom desk to meditate with ZenTangles. My cat, Anastasia, helped me remain calm and centered. She's pictured above coaching me on focus and breathing. I had a small tablet device streaming NPR by this time. It was hard. I couldn't stop looking at the map on my phone. I couldn't find peace.

I've seen many elections come and go. I've never cared as much as I did this time. For one thing, I like Hillary. I like a lot of what she stands for. Not necessarily economics, but then again that's why we need a strong Congress. But, more importantly, I'm afraid of this man who was running against her. I'm afraid of him and I'm afraid of the people who are supporting him. I'm afraid of him because of the hate rhetoric he's used through his campaign - keeping Muslims from coming into the United States (even if they are citizens returning from out of the country!), building a wall between the US and Mexico and deporting millions of Latin Americans. I'm afraid of his followers because they reacted so strongly to all of this. I don't even know if Trump meant half of it; he just knows what to say to get people riled up. (Not to mention his flagrant objectification of all females, which I can't help but believe is truly how he thinks.)

I finally decided to go to bed and check the score in the morning. I couldn't sleep, though. I kept waking up and I couldn't keep myself from checking the phone. Finally, when I woke up (again) around 2:45 I saw Hillary's face there with 238 electoral votes and Trump with 276 and the announcement that he had won. It was such a dark feeling. So many of my friends are immigrants. I am gay. So many of my friends are women. How can we go backwards like this? How?

I hope that I am wrong. I couldn't listen to his victory speech, but I heard that he pledged to bring America together. They said that he was not antagonistic at all. All I could think of all day long was his catchphrase, "Make America great again!" If history has taught me anything it's that Hitler made Germany great again for a huge disaffected population who were bearing the brunt of post WWI rebuilding of their country and repayment for damages caused. He really turned things around for them, and part of the tactic was to identify a common enemy among them - the Jews. Trump has already identified the enemies he's going to go after, Latin Americans and Muslims, not necessarily in that order. I hope that I am wrong, but another thing that history has taught me is that people don't change. If it happened once (the horrors of WWII) then it can happen again.

As Secretary Hillary Clinton said in her concession speech, we have to keep up the fight even with Trump as President. (Even more so because of it.) We have a lot more work to do and we can't go backwards. Gays are allowed in the military and can marry. A woman has been the Democratic candidate for President of the United States. We can't let Americans attack Americans because of their color, race or religion; this cannot be okay.

I've made it through one day with this reality. I've avoided social media for the most part because of the hate and antagonism. This is what they mean when they say 'One day at a time', because I can't think about much more than that. It's too dark.

So, I'll bookend my little essay here with another image of my ZenTangle desk from last night. Quiet meditation and faith in God. And breathing.