Art in Times of Grief

On March 14th, my college closed for the semester due to the COVID-19 panic, and they switched over entirely to online learning. While this might not seem like a huge deal to the regular underclassman, it was a crushing blow to all of my classmates. Art is something that's hard to teach online, especially the more tactile classes like package design and sculpting. I had a good cry over the phone with my friends about the school closing. As of right now, all the art shows (the capstone event of the studio art and graphic design majors) have been canceled, and May's commencement is on the fritz.

To those unfamiliar with the college and its educational requirements, this may not seem to be a big problem. Putting up an art show is a lot of work, and at first it might seem like it would be a relief to remove that source of stress from your life. But if you've been a creative for any amount of time, you know that as a rule of thumb, that the art someone creates is often a piece of their soul and identity, especially if it was created for a senior art exhibit (which is meant to be the crowning achievement and show of your increased skill and understanding of your major). It's similar to a computer science student's senior software expo, or a music student's senior recital. It's the culmination of four hard years of work. And at my school, the art show is a social event. There's food and the opportunity to meet the artists behind the work hanging on the wall. All in all, the senior art exhibits are arguably more important than commencement itself -- it's the collegiate artist's first true gallery experience.

My friends put together a ton of work to pass their show check (the preliminary step that occurs two weeks before the actual scheduled show date, which was March 27th). They created each piece, framed them with love, picked out a little book for guests to sign, and invitations to pass out. Some made business cards, some made stickers, some made pieces to sell. And to have it all ripped away was heartbreaking. I'd lucked out, graduating in December. I got to display my work and receive the recognition for the elbow grease I put in. But after they all passed their show check on the 13th, they found out they all needed to go home.

I hash all this out for a couple of reasons. 

WHAT SHOULD YOU BE FEELING?

My heart aches for all my fellow students -- not just at my alma mater, but also across the country. I've seen a general outcry and outpouring of grief on social media. I've called my friends and cried with them. This is clearly something huge to those who've worked so hard. I'm not ignoring all the other majors; I'm just speaking as an art kid to the art kids. I want to remind them that feeling isn't something that they shouldn't be experiencing. It's okay to be upset about the whole thing!

WHY ARE ARTISTS SO EMOTIONAL?

Artists have always been painted (haha) as the emotional type, which is true to a certain extent. Art is the extension of their personality (and for some, their identity), and what they create will always essentially be a part of them. Emotions are a funny thing, and they're often hard to manage; even something as simple as a critiquing comment on a piece I'm really proud of can just weigh me down. Of course, you have to gauge how much feeling is appropriate; paper skin is no good to anyone. But without the passion, feeling, and personal interpretation behind a piece, there's very little that gives it value; otherwise, you're just creating a copy when you might as well not be making it at all.

WHAT CAN YOU DO WITH ALL THESE CONFUSING, NEGATIVE EMOTIONS?

No one likes feeling these feelings. They're annoying, frustrating, irrational (to an extent), and they generally just get in the way of life. If I could ask my friends individually, I'd bet that none of them want to experience any of these feelings of hostility, frustration, depression... the list goes on. It's hard to deal with such a staggering change of plan, especially when none of it is in your control, and when the plans you'd made were so very important to you. I personally banked a TON on commencement happening (it's not been officially cancelled, but you can never be sure). And it's very hard to say goodbye to people you'd spent years of your life with, creating art and learning together and making plenty of fond memories. 

So what can you do with these frustrating feelings? The answer is simple. In Neil Gaiman's words, make good art.

HOW DO I MAKE GOOD ART?

1) Take care of yourself. 

Give yourself time to adjust to new surroundings, new quarantines, new lifestyles. You have to adjust to your online classes, and maybe you have to go to work now at a different job. Or maybe you're stuck at home in your PJs and tied to your laptop. Either way, your physical health matters most. Have you gotten enough rest or drunk enough water recently? Take care of that first.

2) Take a minute to settle down and consider your perspective. 

Are you safe? Then make sure to be grateful. Are you healthy? Be grateful for that too. Take a moment to count your blessings. Sometimes the blessing is just that you're still alive, and if that's all you can find, then that's okay. Just find something positive to remember and to focus on. A hyperfixation on negativity will only degrade your quality of life as well as your art. A healthy, balanced perspective of the "evil and the good" is necessary for visibly good, balanced art. Some people hold on to trauma or sadness for so long that it becomes part of their identity; they don't know how to function without it.

3) Choose a message you want to convey, and decide why you want to convey it. 

Are you frustrated and hurting? Maybe you want others to know they're not alone. Are you thankful to be safe? Maybe you want to spread that feeling of comfort and peace to someone else. Are you baffled by the world and living in a chapter of a "World History" book from 2030? Maybe you want to chronicle the reality of the times you live in. Don't sit around and make art for no reason -- it's okay to do that occasionally, but don't let it become a habit. You were given those skills for a reason -- make it a good one.

4) Take your medium of choice and make it.

A word of caution: Remember that it's more important to make it "finished, not perfect" (wise words from Jake Parker). Finish it. Even if it's not good, try to finish it, and take the mistakes from the first time around and learn from them for the next time. You don't always have to share the work you make on social media. Sometimes you just need to hold on to it on a hard drive or in a shoebox under your bed. Either way, choose to grow artistically through these hard times. But don't forget to grow in your relationships with other people too.

ISOLATION IN THE ARTIST'S LIFE

We joke that the quarantines don't affect the introverts, haha, top-notch humor. But it's very easy for the artist (especially the introverted artist) to simply turn into a hermit in these troubling times (where if you cough within a mile of someone you'll immediately get shot). Reach out to your friends and the people you care about. They're likely struggling too, and some more than you. And if you're struggling more than some, reach out for help. These people are in your life for a reason, and if they're good friends, then they'll want to help you. 

This is no time to isolate.

Wait, let me check my notes.

...

This might be time to physically isolate, but this is no time to stop building relationships. Art grows best in a community; don't let your community fall away from you. No man is an island, so don't start now.

TO SUM IT ALL UP

As I wrap this up, I have some key reminders. 

1) It's okay to feel the way you do.
2) Check your perspective.
3) Be deliberate in your creativity.
4) Don't isolate yourself from your support system.

And finally, in times of grief, make good art.