
The instructions were to share some good news. It was late afternoon on the Saturday after the election and I was in the Arts District at an event celebrating the late pop artist Corita Kent. The Good News booth was a kind of participatory, conceptual art project meant to prompt people to observe and practice gratitude. I stood at the side of the booth with a friend, looking at the messages people had already posted and wondering what else could be said. Plenty had already written some variation of the “blue tsunami” that hit the country on Tuesday night. Between Tuesday night and Saturday afternoon, that was overwhelmingly the vibe in L.A.
I don’t know if I’m all that surprised by the election results. Eventually, people start coming to their senses, right? And the writing had been on the bathroom walls for years. “Fuck Trump.” “Fuck ICE.” “Free Palestine.” The messages people send when they have more anonymity than social media offers are the ones that lead me to believe that even the most mild-mannered amongst us are royally pissed off right now and it’s not just a “gas is really expensive” thing.
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