The Imperial Righteousness of Now

Loss is where the temporal meets the temporary and time is, suddenly, of the essence.

Things are weird right now.

I mean, it’s been weird for a while, right, but now, instead of (or, in addition to) the external weirdness of a global pandemic, the weirdness seems to be coming from within.

The call, as they say, is coming from inside the house.

Loss is not weird. It’s human.

Mourning the passing of others is a fundamental part of the lives experience we all share.

It’s only weird when it happens with more frequency.

Personally, I’ve experienced more than my fair share of loss this year and it’s deeply weird to me.

I feel out of breath, existentially tired. To me, so-called “quiet quitting” is just a trauma response.

In my opinion, anyone who isn’t completely exhausted right now, isn’t human.

I inked this piece (above) in my sketchbook (I believe) in the summer of 1999, months before the Y2K panic — the dawn of the new millennium.

It represents a psychic moment in time between what was and what’s next: the imperial righteousness of “now,” in the face of whatever is opposite.