Last week, I wrote an entry about Amal, the larger-than-life puppet who has made her way from the Turkish border to the United Kingdom over the past several weeks. Little Amal is a Syrian refugee, desperately trying to escape the terror of a long-standing civil war in her homeland. I wrote about the need to consider Amal’s plight while engaging in our own creative pursuits. For art to flourish, there must be a degree of stability, political and otherwise. Art may be born out of strife – for the circumstances of everyday life inform our work, and, often the most beautiful examples arrive via conflict. But one cannot focus upon art if one is confronted with the very visceral reality of food scarcity, or chemical warfare, for that matter. These more dire and pressing concerns get in the way of art. We need some measure of respite from the horrors of the world to create. Be grateful that you have such stability as you engage with your own artistic endeavor today. In addition, find some way to make an impact upon the refugee crisis running rampant in the world today, between strife in the Middle East to turmoil in Central America. The world will thank you for it.
Puppets figured large in my formative years. It was a conduit for creativity. My cousin Brian, older by a few years, was an ardent puppet maker. I remember being enthralled by the seemingly huge theatre he had constructed out of plywood. He performed elaborate plays with his beautiful puppets, made from paper mâché, at various venues throughout town – from schools to libraries. He was a genius at the craft. I remember making my own puppets, getting lost in the process of applying the paper-fiber clay to Styrofoam to construct the heads. My mother sewed the costumes. I just wanted my puppets to measure up to the artistry that my cousin could harness. His creations were so beautiful.
My cousin was an early mentor of mine. We were two gay boys growing up in the often-hostile suburbs. We found a way to escape within the safe harbor of a puppet theatre where we could act out all sorts of possibilities on that stage. It was our own respite. A place where we could be ourselves.
I do not want to equate our lives with the horror of a life lived as a refugee. But it does give me some insight into how art provides its own safety net against such ravages. Art will flourish wherever it thrusts itself. It is that powerful a force. But if one is searching out food for the day, then, by necessity, art takes a backseat. Do whatever you can today to ensure that artists, wherever they may be in the world, have access to a modicum of repose, so that they may create their own fantastical worlds.
