Make art, not friends
We're on the fast track to THE END.
Or, so some people will tell you. Especially after the latest American presidential election.
(To be fair, we'd be hearing the same if the other candidate had won. We'd just be hearing it from the other half of the country—and maybe even the other half of the world.)
For the sake of this post, let's pass on the idea of calming such fears. Let's accept them as inevitable fact.
Okay, so now what?
Might as well enjoy the ride, I say.
A sketch of me roadraging in the Dallas-Fort Worth traffic
What kind of apocalypse-inspired art can we make?
Might as well lean in. But make sure you do so in a way that adds no extra pain to the world.
If you can't make the world a better place, the least you can do is focus on not making the world any worse. Such thoughtfulness should count for something.
If the end is inevitable and none of this matters anyway (there's that nihilism creeping up again!), then I want to do what I can to live and die with a genuine smile on my face.
I hope I can only be so lucky as to find myself on my deathbed, looking back and turning to that nurse who wishes I'd hurry up and die so that she can go home—and then, when she thinks I'm starting my death rattle, I turn to her and I say I made some bombass art, skipper. I wrote a bunch of blog posts and I drew a bunch of sketches and I took a bunch of pictures. And no one gave a damn. But they were all mine.
Only then do I croak and catch a ride on the Grim Reaper's boat.
The world can't stop us from leaving with a raised metaphorical middle finger.
