It’s been a rough week.
And while this is not the place to outline my opinions regarding the crushing Supreme Court decision on Roe, it would be disingenuous for me to blithely write this post as though nothing had happened.

It often seems that when something sets me reeling, I’ll come across an idea or a sentence in whatever I happen to be currently reading – even if completely unrelated – which points me back to at least a small sense of balance. This has proven true even when regaining my full bearings seems impossible. John Green’s 2021 book The Anthropocene Reviewed has been such an anchor this week.

In a series of essays that review a variety of diverse themes on a five-star scale, Green invokes our shared humanity via this quasi memoir that covers such eclectic subjects as “Scratch ‘n’ Sniff Stickers”, “Air Conditioning” and “Diet Dr Pepper”. In times of distress it’s helpful to be reminded that one can find unexpected significance and empathy in the ordinary. Perhaps most appropriate to where I’m going with this post is Green’s essay entitled “Hiroyuki Doi’s Circle Drawings”. It speaks to the consolation of making art.

Addressing Doi’s obsessive abstract drawings, composed of thousands of circles and begun in response to the death of his brother, Green relates that Doi retreated to the act of drawing and the comfort of repetitive mark-making to find relief from his grief.

Creative work often brings one into a “flow state”, inducing a sense of being or, as Green comments, “a present tense that actually feels present”. He writes about this phenomenon in relation not just to Doi’s drawings, but also to the 150,000 hand-written signatures he supplied to his publisher to be bound into copies of one of his books (including my library copy above). He quotes Doi as saying, “I feel calm when I’m drawing”.

I have also found this to be true, and will add that it’s proving a viable means for confronting the shocking reality of American women in the 21st century being stripped of their reproductive rights and autonomy.

While the painted drawings I’ve worked on this past week haven’t softened last Friday’s blow, they have offered a space of gentle reprieve. My work is the closest thing I’ve found to a respite from my anger and despair. Ironically, the flow state that accompanies creative work appears to be a direct route to the end goal of so many meditation apps that reside on our phones. I guess I prefer to find my solace through a needle and thread or via an ink pen and a box of paints.

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~ with thanks to @owasowfoundphotos via @gollyokate