Hello friends,

When I was a teen, one of my favorite films was Godfrey Reggio’s Koyaanisqatsi. With a score by Philip Glass, it portrayed a world that moved too quickly, a human made world that had become too mechanized, too out of control.

The title was said to mean “life out of balance” from a compound Hopi word that roughly translates—or so my research shows—corrupted or chaotic life or existence.

That film made a powerful impression on my young self. I sat in the dark theater as the credits rolled, unable to get the image of the fuselage from an exploded rocket ship—tumbling over and over through the air, as a poignant refrain played—out of my head.

I’m thinking of that film because this week was the equinox. Equinoxes are usually times in which I pause, take a breath, take stock, and welcome a sense of equilibrium. Not this week. This week I felt pulled between opposing poles.

My sleep was disrupted by visions of immigrants being dragged from their homes. Of tourists stopped at the border. Of brutal prisons. Of cruelty beyond measure. A cruelty that I was keenly aware of as that teen...

What’s the contrast to this cruelty? Spring flowers bursting everywhere. Birds calling to each other. People reaching out to help each other around the world.

But the more jarring contrast? My personal excitement at the novel I just sent to my editor. At the new covers I’m designing for an older, beloved series. At my plans.

Other people are not able to make plans right now, so my joy and excitement at my own feel like some sort of betrayal. Intellectually, I know that is a lie. I know that joy and plans and creativity are needed during the cruelest of times, because to give those up is to let the architects of cruelty win.

As I immerse myself in a story from another author each evening, I feel in my bones how important it is to create right now. And to take solace in the creations of each other.

But that doesn’t mean the juxtaposition doesn’t rest uneasily upon my shoulders. All it means is that I’m here, and I’m not giving up. I hope you’re not giving up, either. I hope you are finding ways to reach out and to create this week. I hope you can pause and enjoy some flowers, too.

We counter cruelty with love and creativity, together. And we do it over, and over, and over again.

Best wishes - Thorn

My fantasy novel By Wind is free this month on retailers if you need a magical escape where community triumphs. You can also request it at your library.