Defending the arts-- what are we doing?

I woke up with "Losing My Mind" from Follies in my head. I have no clue why. Just the last two phrases on repeat, actually:

All afternoon
Doing every little chore
The thought of you stays bright
Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor
Not going left
Not going right

I dim the lights
And think about you
Spend sleepless nights
To think about you
You said you loved me
Or were you just being kind?
Or am I losing my mind?

And before anyone thinks there's trouble in my personal little paradise, there isn't. It's bigger than that, I think. Reading about forklifts ramming the columns at the Kennedy Center to inflict intentional damage, to justify the stranglehold that is being enacted on the institution and, by extension, all of us, is enough to make a person question their sanity. 

The arts keep us alive. They recount the trials, tribulations, loves, sorrows, and aspirations of the Collective. And here's one Philistine kicking over a sandcastle not of his making because he doesn't own it. 

Beach bully.

I'm not sure where all of this cultural erasure and negation will end. I need to finish my book. I need to put something worthwhile into the world before I can't. Before I'm not allowed to. 

Support the arts, even if it's the crayon and watercolor offerings of your favorite toddler. The world is burning --literally, in some places-- and without color, without efforts to remake the world in a wonder-filled way-- what are we even doing? 

C