Photo by Neven Krcmarek on Unsplash
Time to think. In these past few uncertain months, there has been plenty of it.
For each of us, our world has changed. For each of us, a new, unique life tapestry has emerged. No unpicking the stitches. More may be added, but we will not ‘go back.’ Only forward.
We sit, surrounded but the unforeseen baggage of our own uncertain lives, on the shore of the unknowable. Behind us, the old world.
The old existence when we didn’t know life could be so disrupted, when touch was not dangerous and togetherness was not a threat. That old world is full of its own culture. Everything made, painted, composed and written before this time of times belongs to the old world. All those creations have their value. They have lost nothing, but they are innocent. In those movies, books, paintings, plays and songs there is no thought that the planet could be halted. No idea that the society we fit into – or don’t – might have to be savagely recalibrated.
On this shore, at this stage of we don’t know what, we are deprived of our own contemporary culture. Creation is happening, songs, writing, making of all sorts, but we are at the very very beginning. We need so much that is fresh and wise. Fresh, without the complacency of the old ways, and wise, replete with the knowledge that such disruption can happen, has happened, may go on happening.
I’m not ready for pandemic stories. We are still in the story. We are the story. But I need stories that, without even mentioning this wave of tragedy, fear, destruction and change, are built on the understanding that it is our reality. I need to hear those fresh voices, the wisdom that knows uncertainty is the only truth we can rely on.
Our collective grief and dread, our shared confusion and horror, our directionless anger, these will fuel us. We all have a voice and we all know.
Don’t feel that your creations are worth less because they are not public. If you sing in your room, draw or write in a private notebook, you are creating. You are taking this messy, frightening and unstable reality and making something from it. The world knows that, even if you don’t share it with others.
But if you are drawn to share, leave fear and doubt behind. Everything has changed and we have seen the truth in uncertainty and imperfection. There are others who need your unfinished words, your incomplete song or unsatisfying picture. We need each other to create so we can hear and see ourselves. To make some sort of sense. We need fresh voices.
