Make Art Not War

The opposite of War is not Peace. The opposite of War is Creation. I first heard that quote in a song from the Broadway musical "Rent". It made immediate sense to me. The opposite of war is truce. It is the end of military operations. But after the ravages of war it takes an act of God, congress and all the people to create peace which is a whole other thing.

We exist here, in a virtual, if not superficial peace. We don't see war, but there's the hidden toxic assault in our air and water and then there's our consumption and taxes that do make us complicit. But, What can we do? War seems to be a contagious epidemic, contiguous and amorphous easily adapting to the 21st century. It's got an assault weapons base and I've recently been informed there are close to 300 million guns in the US. Wow, how do you stand up to that? How do we address violence non-violently?

War is more sophisticated,profitable and personal. It still has the random clumsiness of a botched military operation where innocent bystanders are just "collateral damage" Yet, is more unpredictable because it can interrupt a casual Saturday morning shopping trip to Safeway.

I have dreamed and demonstrated for peace for years and years, like many in this listening audience. We've taken frequent trips to Washington DC to express our sentiments, we've marched, called, petitioned and still war drones on manned and unmanned. Peace will come, I believe, when we choose to express our needs through art rather than violence.

In my constant quest for peace I must look into the mirror and while I have not bombed a village, invaded my neighbors house, or put cross hairs over a political rivals coordinates. I still have a war zone inside of me. It is a daily battlefield of emotions that clash with common sense, intelligence, and self discipline. I still react to situations. My anger is ballistic. I am capable and active in my hate. Of course I hate the right things, but still the verb is combative and tends to leak. I have self judgments that reject me and I want to conquer certain behaviors, physical defects, deformities visible and in visible. So I've tried to make peace with all this, especially myself, because this kind of internal warfare doesn't help my marriage or the raising of my teenager, because I tend to blow up the village to save the town. Art is my only way out. Theater is my cure.
I know I am not alone in this and was confirmed again, last week when I saw the MTC's production of Catherine Trieschmann's play, "Crooked" directed by our own, young, innovative and talented Felicia Fratus. It is the story of Laney, a14 year girl, (played sullenly by Alex Scott) and her eternally patient, Mother Elise (Teresa Hurray) who return to Mississippi after the devastating loss of Husband and Father to Mental illness. Laney finds a new friend in Maribel the daughter of the pastor of an evangelical church. Maribel played with languid deliberation by 12 year old Isla Bowery, is convinced that she is suffering from stigmata, the invisible kind. She is the naive catalyst for conflict and redemption in this complex and fascinating landscape of family drama. Crooked examines the war between mother and daughter, believer and non-believer, Educated and Indoctrinated, Truth and lies.

What we are giving is a mirror of our hidden faces and we are not pretty we are amazing ugly lovable monsters. Watching and listening to the scenes between mother and daughter was a stark reflection of my life. And though I am prone to worry and struggle over raising a rebellious child, I had to laugh. And therein lies relief. A moment of peace. Believe me the play is not peaceful, it was loud, angst. It was art. It was a chance for Ms. Trieschmann to reach into her heavy arsenal and send up a flare. It screams, I am here. I have dreams and hopes and rage and I'm going to share them with the world. I am going to make my mark. I will re-create.

So, like Ms. Trieshmann and so many who make our homes in creative paradise, our job is to make the unbearable beautiful, the horrible inspiring, the obscene humorous, Put it into a monologue, a play, a song, a joke, write poetry, play guitar, splash the canvas with paint and use as much red as you. If we all participate that's one way Art will be bigger than War.