This Is the Time for Art
In my current course Momentum, we have some students who are struggling. They are heartbroken or frightened about events happening in their communities.
I never talk about politics publicly, but I don't mind talking about freedom, love and peace because those things should have nothing to do with party affiliations.
Before I share my thoughts about your art-making, let me say this: I write from a place of privilege because there are no armed government agents on my streets. I am allowed to protest, insult officials, or blow a whistle without fear of being murdered. I know that's not the case for all of you.
That said, it makes me so sad when I hear that sadness or fear is preventing people from creating, because this is the time when we most need art.
Art helps us stay human inside of our rage and fear and grief. It gives shape to what feels overwhelming. It reminds us that we can still choose meaning, connection, and imagination - even when the world feels unsteady.
Some students tell me art feels frivolous in moments like these., but I don't see it that way at all.
Art is a form of resistance. Systems that thrive on fear, exhaustion, and isolation benefit when we are too depleted to feel, to imagine, or to care for one another. Art pushes back against that. Every time you sit down to make something—no matter how small or imperfect—you are saying: "I am still here. I am still paying attention. I still believe in something beyond despair."
Art is also a way to tend to your mental health so you can be there for others. When you create, metabolize emotion instead of bottling it up. You practice listening to yourself. You heal yourself just a little bit.
That's important for you, but also for those around you. Burned-out people can’t show up the way they want to. They can't provide support or strength. But by taking time to make your art, you strengthen yourself and make it possible to care more for others.
I don't think it matters what kind of art you make or why you make it. Your art doesn't need to be uplifting or political. It doesn't need to be made for show or sale (although it can be). It just needs to be honest, whatever that means for you.
It might just be five minutes of drawing. a bit of colour mixing, or a single splash of colour on a page. Everything counts.
You do not need to wait until you feel better to create. Creating is often how feeling better begins—or at least how we survive the in-between.
Making art is an act of love, and no matter where you stand on the political spectrum, I think we can all agree that the world needs more love.
So if you’ve been thinking, "what’s the point?"—this is the point.
Make your art not because everything is okay, but because it isn’t—and because the world needs people who are still willing to feel, imagine, and love anyway.
I’m sad and angry, and I'm also making more art than I've made in a long time. I don't think this is a coincidence.

