The Opposite of War

I took these photos when my grade school class took a field trip to The World Trade Center in 1978. It

Now I live in the DFW area, but on September 11, 2001, I was living in northern New Jersey. And everyone I knew was directly affected by the attacks on the World Trade Center that day. So many memories.

Today I am thinking of just one–about my friend Cindy. Like me, Cindy lived about 40 minutes from Manhattan (but north, in New York). I first got to know her as a frequent contributor to the art stamping magazine I edited. By the time we talked on September 12th, we had become close friends. That day, in her pain and anger, she told me, “I’m going into my studio. I need to make something.”

I was still dazed; I could hardly accept what happened. And she was talking about art.

Later, I thought I understood. Sometimes making art is what we need to work though a situation that is difficult, or even impossible, to understand. We paint or draw or cut and paste; and while our hands move, wheels in our brains turn, too; and hopefully wind themselves up to a better place.

Other times it is a way to reach out to others. When we seek human connection to assuage fears and confusion, we offer whatever we have.

Now I know these things.

I will probably work in my art journal this weekend. It may or may not have anything to do with this ten-year anniversary. But either way, I’ll be thinking of the line Mark sings in the musical RENT: “The opposite of war isn’t peace. It’s creation.”