I recently got some bad news that a friend of mine from recovery suddenly passed away. He was only 32 years old. As these dark pandemic days drag on, I felt I needed to write this post to process my emotions.
I’m angry and I’m upset. The past few days I’ve sunk into a depression, mixed with bursts of anger. A lot of it has to do with self-isolation. Some of it has to do with bipolar symptoms. However, a lot of it has to do with what’s going on in America right now.
I’ve always loved photos of the moon hanging over the sea at night, so I decided to draw my own depiction last year. Like I mentioned in a previous post about drawing, the process has been very soothing for me.
The funny thing about being an American is that, when I was growing up, we used to ask each other as kids, “Where are you from?” We didn’t mean what neighborhood; we meant what country. I would say, “I’m Italian,” because my family has Italian ancestry.