Here’s a guest post from author Marla Taviano. Her books unbelieve, jaded, and whole are 50% off on Amazon through November 4 . . .
So you’ve probably noticed there are a couple few things going on in the world right now. You’ve possibly sensed some tension, some anxiety, some angst. Maybe some racism, some misogyny, some white Christian Naziism.
(And by “some” I mean a whole heck of a lot.)
(Whew. My blood pressure is literally escalating as I type.)
Some days, I’m pretty convinced that there’s no hope for this country we live in. I mean, come on. We’re a joke to the rest of the free world—you know, all those countries that don’t put rapists and felons with dementia on the ballot for President of the whole dang land.
Other days, like today, I take a deep breath, I do my morning stretches, I go for a walk in my neighborhood, I snap photos of leaves and flowers, I sit down to do my work, I take more deep breaths, I pet my cats.
And, in the evening, I wind down by making poem art.
when life hands you dumpster fires, make poem art
What is poem art? Well, by my definition, it’s cutting poems out of my books (yes, I am an author and bibliophile who sometimes cuts up books), then gluing them onto illustrations from vintage kids’ books and creating little handmade memes.
Poem art.
It’s a very kid-at-heart kind of thing to do. (I spent countless hours of my childhood cutting and gluing things.) It can also seem a bit silly and frivolous, especially at such a time as this.
But it’s saving my life.
I’m using my hands and scissors and glue (and my laminator!) and I’m using my brain too, but it’s a different part of my brain than the part I use for writing and editing (my day job).
It’s calming, it’s cathartic, it’s hopeful, it’s healing.
It makes me feel whole.
Sometimes I share my poem art on the internet and other people resonate with it and they tell me all about it in the comments or DMs and it adds another sweet layer to my healing and wholeness.
And here is something simple but profound that I have come to believe:
Art is going to save us.
I did not think of this myself. Someone else did (or several other someones) but I agree with all my heart.
Sometimes my art is a form of direct protest. I write scathing poems criticizing toxic beliefs that harm other humans.
Sometimes the protest is indirect. I’m appreciating beauty or being silly as a smack in the face to a world that often wants to crush our joy.
Sometimes I am telling hard truths in a way that feels very empowering—both to myself and to others.
But, whatever I’m doing, I’m making art.
And it is making me.
And I want all of us to find a way to make some kind of art.
It doesn’t have to be poem art. It could be photography. Or gardening. Or creating things from cloth or string or yarn or wood. It could be a collage or a painting or a drawing.
(I won’t list all the kinds of art because art can be literally anything you want it to be.)
And it doesn’t have to be perfect art or even good art.
Just make some art.
And share it if you’re feeling brave—and even if you’re not.
So make some art, tell us about it, and let’s heal the world together.
Marla Taviano is into books, love, justice, globes, anti-racism, blue, gray, rainbows, and poems. She reads and writes for a living, wears her heart on her t-shirts, and is on a mission/quest/journey to live wholefarted (not a typo). She’s the author of unbelieve: poems on the journey to becoming a heretic, jaded: a poetic reckoning with white evangelical christian indoctrination, and whole: poems on reclaiming the pieces of ourselves and creating something new. She lives in South Carolina with her four freaking awesome kids and two adorable cats. Find out more at marlataviano.com.
