Welcome. It's Thursday, July 31.
Straight up, are some weeks a cosmic joke from the multiverse?
The budding conspiracy theorist in me sees “the big ole pile-up of hard stuff” that can come from "just another day in life" and wants to make sense of it.
Pithy phrases could not be more trite in the thick of it. "Darkest before the dawn” stands out among them. An obvious problem with that is that day is as brief as night.
Albert Camus knew this rhythm darkness to light, light to darkness:
"There is no love of life without despair of life."
I could mine enough material from this week alone to fill a dozen issues.
And that’s just it: when life hands you the full spectrum of human experience in seven days, you don't waste it. You wring every last bit out of it. It's triage. It's birth. It's an opportunity.
If you can figure out how to crack open your sketchbook, your manuscript, or even dump thoughts in your notes app during the worst of it, you’re doing yourself a favor.
Perhaps the human experience needs your insight; perhaps it doesn't.
But you need your insight.
You may not be able to assign meaning during “the big ole pile-up of hard stuff”, but there's likely something to capture that will restore you. You don't have to know what it is just yet.
Follow the hunch. Pay attention. Show up, even when it's devastatingly hard. Show up, even if it has to be brief.
Therefore, this will be brief.
But there is some meaning, and a whole lot of blessings here for you.
*Camus quote soared into my feed this week when the squeeze was at its worst. I love this about the world. It’s amusing. One sentence, just one, can change your perspective immediately. So take heart and keep creating, my friend. Write a good sentence. Make something.
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As noted above, I have a lot of content that I will use in the next few weeks.
For today, the only artist I want to focus on is photographer Diane Arbus. I was doing research on trauma and creating, and how they intersect.
Look at what emerged from Diane Arbus: An Aperture Monograph published in 1972.
Unlike most people, who “go through life dreading they’ll have a traumatic experience, the freaks that interested Diane Arbus “were born with their trauma. They’ve already passed their test in life. They're aristocrats.”
This is a dose of radical certainty. It’s a revolutionary act of certainty.
I’m floating the idea that trauma is a matter of perspective. That’s enough to ruminate on for awhile and as far as I have gotten with this nugget from Arbus.
But I’ll keep rolling it around and compare it to my experience.
I’d love to hear from you all too about this idea. Here’s a few of her pieces.
Diane Arbus, A Jewish Giant at Home with His Parents, in the Bronx, N.Y.
Diane Arbus, Tattooed man at a carnival, MD. 1970. Courtesy: © The Estate of Diane Arbus
Jack Dracula at a bar, 1961, Estate of Diane Arbus
Diane Arbus, Untitled (1)
Diane Arbus. Girl in Circus Costume, 1970, Estate of Diane Arbus
Diane Arbus, Susan Sontag with her son David, NYC, 1969, Estate of Diane Arbus
Diane Arbus w/her photograph “A young man in curlers at home on West 20th Street, N.Y.C. 1966,” during a lecture at the Rhode Island School of Design in 1970 (Copyright Stephen A. Frank)
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