Open Shut

I spent the day behind a glazy haze of headache and exhaustion, barely being productive, and feeling (per usual lately) faded.

I finally came out of it, in a bright, manic art gallery, serving Indian food and cupcakes, with sprinkles. The art was intriguing; I pondered, explored, considered, observed. I love the pieces that reward my eyes for looking closely, thoroughly, extendedly. Metaphors. Meanings. References. Perspectives. Backdropped by music. Surrounded by good people and positive, happy energy.

Then, despite my gut reservations (I need to remember to notice these subtleties), I made my way to gallery two. A show of images designed for social action, social change. And as I entered the room, and initially looked around, I could feel myself mentally, physically, put up barriers; shut down my mind and draw in, refuse to contemplate the images, the issues.

Why did I do this? Why did I close myself off and retreat to an objective, academic discussion of the artists' works, avoiding the emotion behind each piece as much as I could?

I'm not sure I've ever done this before--intentionally closed myself off from an experience so completely. My only explanation is self preservation. My reactions to images, films, music--art--are visceral. Ask anyone who's sat next to me in a movie theater watching a film about war, images of killing, of despair. I physically react. My lungs shut down. I become small. Nothing can crush a person more than helplessness, hopelessness.

So after a day of a furrowed brow, finally living again, like a flower to sunlight, soaking up the energy, the vitality, of the people around me, I could not go back there. Not right now.

What right do I have to live in a world with so much confusion, so much loss, so much mania, and NOT consider it, not FEEL it??? How dare I shield my eyes, my mind, and refuse to be touched by these images, these issues?

Sometimes you have to focus on the things that make life worth living,
in order to remember why
it's worth working
to save a life.