Epigraph:

“I DON’T PRETEND WE HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS. BUT THE QUESTIONS ARE CERTAINLY WORTH THINKING ABOUT.”

— ARTHUR C. CLARKE

—-—————————

Until

Let’s pretend for a moment

that significant arts integration 

in schools, at early ages 

and along the path of upbringing 

doesn’t have countless benefits

proven extensively 

in the short and long term

across the board.

Let’s also pretend those benefits

don’t include drastic improvements 

in confidence, creativity

ability to learn, critical thinking, 

decision making, problem solving,

fewer disciplinary infractions and more school engagement.

Let’s further pretend

for the sake of argument and

entertainment value

there wouldn’t be additional improvements 

across three levels of skills:

fine motor, language and social 

joining forces with empathy,

focus and aesthetic appreciation.

Let’s pretend, shall we?

Everyone has a storyteller inside them somewhere.

Let’s make believe we live in a world

where we can set all of those things aside.

Let’s look at the other side.

When are you going to get a real job?

The arts don’t change anything.

They don’t make a significant difference.

The arts aren’t needed to sustain life.

They aren’t necessary for our existence.

They don’t matter.

Some may dismissively say the arts 

are for those with access to

opulence and affluence

rather than seeing them for the 

sustenance they are 

in meeting

basic wants for all

Some may flippantly remark the arts

are a side hobby for those who embody

luxury and privilege 

as opposed to a lifeline in providing

basic needs for all

Some may have a vision of the arts

as being representative of

grandeur and splendor only

rather than the basic building blocks

of everyday life as well

Perhaps people don’t think about artistry

the way they ought to

Until

Until the city walls feel like they’re closing in

yet the paintings on the walls of the museum rekindle our spirit

Until the single Dad, passed up for the well deserved promotion at work finds the strength at his daughter’s ballet recital that night to keep fighting the good fight

when he’s watching what matters most

Until the parents have to bury their own child as a result of senseless violence and need to escape together from the ills of adulthood into Mahler’s 9th symphony at the local performing arts venue

Until the recent widow uncovers a sense of community within the crochet club at the local center

Until the heart is shattered, in dire need of repair, and a stand up comedian becomes the surgeon we most needed

Until the events of the day knock the wind out of us and a magician’s slight of hand trick helps us feel lighter than air again

Until the small child whose school, home and hospital are no longer, uses the sooty oil from a blown out small engine as ink, and one of the legion of empty shells responsible as a canvas to sketch their idea of paradise, determined to live it out line by fractured line rather than become one of the monsters who did this. 

Until our partner cheats on us and runs out on responsibility and a touring light show helps restore our sense of self, bringing color back into our world

Until the headlines overwhelm us 

and our inspired tattoos renew us

Until we are at the brink of utter exhaustion

from working multiple jobs

none of which offers sufficient benefits

and wood working tutorials

or a tap dance class

or a burlesque show

or making a collage for a friend’s birthday

gives us the release to get through

our day

Until caregivers and protectors discover new levels of toleration and respect for the fiercely dressed artists volunteering to read to children and their parents at the local library. Causing everyone’s hearts and minds to open wider than previously thought possible. 

Until the dwelling place is incinerated in a wildfire and we find an irreplaceable photograph miraculously untouched in the ashes

Until our furry and feathered friends’ batteries run out and a recessed outline of how they stood in our lives is set in a glazed ceramics display. A constant reminder of the permanent imprint upon our heart. Perhaps gone, but never forgotten. 

Until those closest to us share their story of being abused and we’re able to sit with them in silence gazing upon sculptures formed by positive touch 

until the marble and our hearts both soften

Until the unhoused individual sitting curbside contemplating intentionally losing a game of chicken with an oncoming train notices the innocent expression on one of the faces in the nearby mural and decides against it.

Until the soldier returns from active duty in a war zone to a place which formerly felt like home to find a poetry therapy group and begins to find their bearings again through creative writing catharsis.

Until the teachers, counselors, coaches, therapists, pastors and health care providers take in the perfect play or a fantastic film and take on their tasks more fully restored than the day before.

A life rich in art for everyone is

like continuously opening Christmas presents or finally finding the last Easter egg after a long search

A life rich in art for everyone helps aid

us collectively to

Liven up the languid

Ignite the intention

Vibe with the volatility 

Embrace the enigmatic

Collaborate with the conflict

Rescue the remedy

Exercise at elevation 

Acknowledge activism

Testify to the truth

Investigate the imagination 

Verify the viable 

Energize eccentricity 

Let go of loss

Yearn for out yonder 

The arts teach us

Goodness, mercy and kindness often come from unpredictable places

The arts show us

A candle flickering in the darkness that is the lonely executioner of night

can be enough to light our way home

They help our bodies to know

When the wounds of our falls are still fresh we are better able to swiftly rise

and finish the race strong 

They had us staying up later and later

to watch just one more episode

during the pandemic.

They have us sitting in our cars 

in our driveways

after the engines have been quieted

to finish the song playing

before we go inside after a long day

They have strangers

seated in the same restaurant as each other

showing their excitement 

for someone celebrating 

another trip around the sun

by singing in unison 

a song we all know

Being an artist isn’t just a real job.

It’s the most real job I can imagine,

and the most needed job I can think of.

The job of being better human beings.

Everything matters.

See we as artists may have  a difficult time

in a corporatist climate making a living

but we have an easy time 

making life more worth living

for everyone whose lives we touch

including our own

Until we finally see the light

{Written for DINNER ON THE BRIDGE 10/5/24 A Sierra Arts Foundation Fundraiser}