“Invisible Light.” Collage, cut New Yorker Magazine paper, 9" x 12" — **“Invisible Light.”**
Collage, cut *New Yorker* Magazine paper, 9" x 12"

Well, this week has been—interesting?

I entered it not unlike the character in Kadir Nelson’s cover art. It’s a summertime issue, and that’s what I was craving—the light and the chill vibes of summer. I mean, check out this guy on the scooter. Chill. That’s what I wanted to conjure this week.

“Wheel Life” by Kadir Nelson @kadirnelsonThe New Yorker, July 1, 2019 — “Wheel Life” by Kadir Nelson @kadirnelson
*The New Yorker*, July 1, 2019

And then Wednesday happened and blew me right off my scooter.

I was already behind in my reading of this issue, and then I could not look away from what was happening at the capitol building. I was distracted, disturbed, sad, angry, distressed.

The collage loomed. I knew this issue had some wonderful color to work with, but things don’t usually click for me until I find the title words. And I can’t do that without reading.

Knowing I was running out of time—and still too distracted to read anyway—I took myself to Pinterest for inspiration. I thought, what is it that would feel healing right now? I wanted flowers. So I searched and pinned several appealing images.

The day after the insurrection, still distressed, I took myself out for a short walk in my neighborhood. I needed grounding. I prayed for perspective.

By the time I was back at my desk, I still felt overwhelmed. Something spurred me to just pick up the New Yorker issue and open to the back where the reviews are. I read a column or two, and there it clicked—the title and the vision.

I had been looking inward for guidance. Things seemed so dark. I thought about the flower images I had been looking at, how flowers grow toward the light. I thought about my own need to turn toward the light. Even when it doesn’t seem to be there, when it seems “invisible,” I need to find or create my own light and lean towards it.

I don’t want to use “spiritual bypassing” to suppress or avoid these challenging feelings. And I also don’t want to wallow in them. Focusing on the things that I can control—myself, my art—reminds me that I have choice. I can choose to grow toward the light.

And so, here is some “Invisible Light.” Creating it was healing for me. I hope it brings a little brightness to you.