One of the best things any form of art—painting, literature, music—can do, is move us emotionally.
But does that mean it changes us?
On October 3rd, 1992, I watched as Sinead O’Connor tore up a picture of Pope John II on Saturday Night Live. It was an act of protest against child abuse; she stated the Church of Ireland knew molestation was occurring within its walls, yet was doing nothing to protect children.
It’s 4:12 in the morning on February 6th, and I’m lying in bed confused. Not in a bad or frightening way, but more a bemused, problem-solving fashion.
I have no idea where I am.
This has happened to me before after bouts of intense travel combined with hyper-exhaustion, so I’m used to the feeling. I just need to take a moment and gather my bearings is all.
You’d think giving money to charity would be easy—especially in the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas; the holiday season—but you would be mistaken. In a day and age where mysterious benefactors pay off layaway balances at department stores and food banks receive volunteers and donations, there are still those who just don’t see anything beyond their own selfish interests…
No one likes fragility in their life; the idea we are not in control of our own destiny is mind-numbingly frightening. Example: though flying is inherently the safest form of travel, people on the whole feel more comfortable driving their own car. Sitting on a plane leaves you powerless, at the mercy of a pilot you don’t know and inside a piece of technology you probably don’t understand entirely. When you’re behind the wheel, you believe you have a say in what happens in an accident, this regardless of the fact the word “accident” automatically implies otherwise.