A coping mechanism is what saves you when you are facing what you simply cannot bear. You improvise, you adapt, and you reach for whatever can keep you from falling apart, from freezing, or from devastation. That makes a coping mechanism a true savior; a savior of the mind, the soul, and the mortal body. I never judge anyone for how they survive, but I feel blessed that very often, my savior is painting. The meditative act of painting allows me to step back, zone out, and observe events from a distance rather than being crushed by positioning myself at the center of the storm.

During this past year, as many of us endured a harsh reality, resisting and trying to stay sharp even as things seemed to worsen rather than heal, I found myself less lost. In the middle of this chaos, I found faith. Not a guaranteed faith, but the simple fact that if you wake up, there is a tomorrow. If the bomb hasn't landed on you, if you are harmless enough to stay safe, if you are eager to live through it, if you are lucky enough, if the odds aren't against you, if, if, if you wake up, you have another day.

Despite the weight of all these ifs, living this life remains a blessing; one we so easily forget, justifying our neglect by belittling the greatness of being alive. I use painting to remember these blessings. I paint to imagine faith before it exists in front of me, manifesting it through the work and hoping you might remember it, too. As above reflects on the very below, and as within manifests without, there is no greater work than inner work.

I am not trying to prescribe how anyone should endure hardship, but I invite you to try bearing it differently, and perhaps save yourself. I resist the idea of sacrificing oneself for a vague, advertised, and implanted concept of freedom. I am interested in surviving and celebrating life rather than giving it away. If that makes me selfish, so be it. How can I wish for others to live through this if I refuse to do the work of living through it myself?

So I return to this self. I investigate its needs and behaviors, save it, and document the process. My hope is that once these works leave me and stand before your eyes, they might offer inspiration. Painting has already saved me. Can you save your self, too?