The guilt of making art with a world on fire

June 2025

In full transparency, this month’s newsletter is, in part, an act of self-therapy.

It’s also a means of saying, “Hello, dear reader, how are you? Oh, you’re not fine? Let’s not be fine together.”

Because let’s be honest, none of us are fine. And if you are fine amid the state of the world, even if you are among the privileged few unaffected by policy, war, or otherwise. . . well, you may have an empathy problem.

But I’m speaking to those who, like me, are struggling each day to continue to create their art in a world where doing so feels like an act of neglect. Of abandoning other causes that our conscience is telling us need more of our attention.

That’s been my state of affairs for a long time, and yet I continue to create my art. I continue to write and publish and promote my books.

Why? Well, because I have to. I’m an artist (and I believe we all are), and there’s a part of this human experience that yearns to tell stories in some capacity, whether it’s to draw them, write them out, or get in front of a camera and speak them. Storytelling is as essential as breathing, for without it, we will die. At least, our spirits will, and that death will be slow. Soul crushing.

And yet while essential, it’s also a luxury. That’s likely why accompanying this act of creating is an extreme guilt because there are indeed others out there who are simply unable to express that creativity to the capacity we are. It’s a real emotion and we shouldn’t shy away from it but rather interrogate it. After doing just that, here’s my conclusion. . .

When you work out in order to build muscle, the working out isn’t enough. You need to rest, to hydrate and consume the foods and vitamins necessary for the muscle to tear and rebuild stronger than before. Similarly, it’s our duty to “rage against” this machine that’s enabled extreme inequality, bigotry, and genocide. But that’s some serious work, and so to replenish our spirits so that we can return time and time again to that fight, we need to make art. To tell stories. This is what helps break and repair our hearts stronger than before, preparing us for the next battle. There will always be another battle.

That’s why, despite the guilt, you should continue to create. At least, that’s the story I’m telling myself.

Author updates

It’s about month since my book released!

Bashir Boutros and the Jewel of the Nile is out in the wild and can be purchased in a variety of different ways. Signed copies are also out there, especially from Books of Wonder in NYC, which is always a great place to buy my books.

It’s been a wild ride with lots of wonderful events, and I’m ready for a break (though, of course, that’s not going to happen). What will happen is that I’ll be at the Columbus Book Festival next month. Otherwise, I’m using the summer to tackle some other projects.

As always, thanks for being here. Know that I appreciate you!