Whelp. Had a handful of ideas for this post percolating—attended my first virtual con, dealt with the bummer of my favorite con making the call to cancel, wanted to talk about artistic resources in the time of pandemic and zoom writing groups and balancing not only your own spoons but the spoons of your support group.

But, I live in the Twin Cities. Our community is reeling from the sadistic murder of George Floyd. While, I believe making art always has a place, and that it helps people process, re-connect, rejuvenate and a thousand other valid and necessary tasks in the midst of trauma, for this week, I set aside art in favor of amplifying, supporting, donating, and protesting.

And when I was not doing that work, I was struggling to rest, struggling to understand, struggling to attend to basic needs like grocery shopping during a pandemic + curfew + boarded up stores. I watched libraries burn and tanks grind down my streets. I watched my neighbors chant, plead, demand for police to stop killing brown people, and I heard the police, the national guard and the federal government respond with, “We’d rather mow down all of you than stop hurting any one of you.”

Black Lives Matter. Disgusting that it needs to be screamed when it should go without saying. We need change. Now.  

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