Finding Joy In Strange Times
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the place of joyful art in our current socio-political climate. So much of what I feel on a daily basis is anger, frustration, fear, shock, and heartbreak. If you’re feeling that too, you’re not alone.
These fleeting moments remind me that joy is enough of a reason to keep going. It’s enough of a reason to dig deep and create from a place of hope—now more than ever.
Focusing on joy keeps me tethered to hope. Even in the hardest times, there are glimmers of something bright, something worth nurturing. Joy, I’ve realized, is foundational. Without it, there’s no hope, no optimism, no dreams, no love. Without those things, there’s no resistance, no resiliance. Joy is crucial to our lives and to our future.
Being an artist in today’s world can feel strange. In a society that often reduces us to demographics and checkboxes, art offers freedom. Art is expansive—it reaches out, grows, and connects.
The work of an artist is to make people feel seen, to share common experiences, emotions, and histories. Sometimes, that means sharing pain or confronting hard truths. Other times, it means sharing joy. Both are equally important.
For quite some time now, I’ve thought of my work as an escape to a happy place. Making art allows my mind to wander, calms me, centers me, and brings joy into my life. More than that, I want my work to offer solace and escape to those who experience it.
Recently, my work has become more abstract, more surreal—trippy, if you will. I’ve grown drawn to the pleasant disorientation these installations offer. My studio has become one of these worlds, with crumpled mylar-lined walls and color-changing lights creating an immersive, surreal atmosphere. I love watching people delight in these experiences. I love seeing them walk away lighter, more joyful.
For me, the harder the real world becomes - the more divisive the politics, the more homophobic the rhetoric, the more catastrophic the climate - the more I yearn to create artwork that breaks from that reality. In times of ease, my work tends to be more representational. Currently, my work is very, very abstracted, and that brings me joy.
Do you find joy in a good book? Time with loved ones? Nature? Music? Joy can come from so many places, but for me, it’s often lacking on social media. I don’t know about you, but every time I scroll, I walk away tired and drained, wondering where my time went. I challenge you not to get engrossed in the online train wrecks we’re bound to witness as our (American) government—and many others around the globe, I’m afraid—devolve into chaos. Instead, seek joy in the real world. Disconnect from your devices (and yes, I see the irony of saying this in a blog), and go see real things—people, art, trees. As my kids say, go touch grass.
Whether you’re a maker, an artist, or an appreciator, what are you doing right now to bring hope to your community? I truly believe that if we all do a little bit each day to make the people around us feel joy, happiness, gratitude, or seen, we can change the world, bit by bit, or at the very least, help one another get through it.