I’m having trouble concentrating on the fictional worlds I create, when the real one I live in is in such turmoil.
It’s hard not to think ‘what’s the point?’ Who care’s what happens to a pretend person I made up when there are real people in trouble everywhere?
But we can’t all do everything. That’s what I tell myself. The world needs art even more when it is in pain.
That’s how I try to justify it. But it’s still hard.