The idea of struggle creating art is absurd, the idea of coming out of struggle on the other end and creating from it is magical. It’s Maslow’s triangle but with the absolute pinnacle being able to look back at your lowest point and being able to create something authentically and objectively. Knowing you will be living comfortably and safely brings back the kind of creative energy I missed so much. It’s nice to feel motivated again, although frozen with the idea of packing my life up again again, it is a freeing feeling. This whole year has felt like either the greatest lessen ever learned or the most horrible cosmic joke ever in existence, so I’m thinking some great art might come from it, but the idea of the struggling artist actively making work in the throes of chaos is absurd, dangerous, and weirdly romantic. I think the romanticism of sadness makes artists, I am certainly guilty, think that the only time they can make work is when they are actively sad, but pain can also be turned into joy and passion as long as we learn something during those impossible times, when it is healthier not to make for the sake of making, but to just stick around. I am a student of the world, so when i cannot make, I just stick around. Right now I am inspired, full of passion because I spent so much of the last few years learning lessons about what matters. I say what I need to say now I do what I need to do, and I love people openly and unapologetically, because there is art to be made after the struggle.