Reality Is Setting In

And I'm a little salty...

I really don't want to come across as a Debbie Downer (cue sad trombone), but I have to admit I’m pretty exhausted and just a tad salty right now. Okay, maybe more than a little salty. My friend Catherine even said today that I’m like the Dead Sea, which made me laugh. I promise, if you stick with me, I’ve got a really good post coming up about dogs that’ll be highly entertaining. But for now, you’re stuck with this salty dog.

The truth is, any laughing I’m doing right now is just to keep from crying. I’m going to assume that if you’re following my writing, it’s because 1) you’re living through this experience with me, or 2) you genuinely want to know what it’s like to go through something like this. I feel the need to be as honest as possible right now.

Someone referred to this week as "Grief Week," and that feels accurate. We were all in crisis mode for the first three weeks, but now we’re beginning to realize how long this recovery will take. We went from tunnel vision—only seeing what’s directly in front of us—to now looking around and grasping the full gravity of the situation we’re in.

I’m not dealing with spiked cortisol levels anymore, but the low-grade exhaustion has definitely set in. I find myself fighting back tears throughout the day. Suppressing emotions is draining, even for someone who doesn’t consider themselves to be very emotional. Anyone who knows me knows I joke about being "dead inside," but that’s not really true. What I’ve learned over a lifetime is how to control my emotions. Right now, I can’t cry every time I feel like it—who has time to reapply makeup five times a day? Today’s a good eyeliner day, and I don’t want to mess that up.

I saw this from Adam Grant and thought, yep, that’s exactly what I’m feeling. I know I’m not the only one because I shared this on social media, and it’s already been shared 33 times. If you’re reading this from afar, you may be feeling it too. Side note: if you’re not familiar with Adam Grant, I highly recommend checking out one of his books, his TED Talk, or his podcasts. I’m a big fan of Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know. He’s also the one who introduced me to the term "languishing." Here’s a New York Times article he wrote about that feeling, which he describes as the neglected middle child of mental health. It’s not depression or burnout, but the “blah” feeling that drains your motivation and focus.

I’ve been helping process applications for emergency relief grant funding for the creative community. The grant provides $500 stipends to professionals working in craft, literary, media, performing, visual, and interdisciplinary arts, covering 25 counties. While the level of physical devastation has been overwhelming, the amount of loss experienced by these artists is just heartbreaking. There are nearly 900 applications and counting.

I’ve always said it’s the people that make WNC so special, and the artists who call this place home are a huge part of that. They’ve lost everything—from their studio spaces to their homes. They’ve lost their tools to create, the spaces to display and sell their creations, and the venues to perform. Some have had their art carried away by the water, and some have found their pieces covered in mud and mold.

This was the Marquee, one of my favorite places in Asheville. So many great artists under one roof.

Some of these artists I know personally, but there are many whose work I’m just now discovering as I process their applications. While I knew we were considered an art mecca, I had no idea of the depth and breadth of creativity in WNC. There are so many ridiculously talented people here.

I was trying to get through 75 applications, but by the time I reached the 28th one, I started to cry. It wasn’t one application in particular, just the weight of seeing so much loss. I have to verify these losses, so I’ve been looking at pictures and videos of what these artists are experiencing firsthand. It’s such an odd way to discover new artists—by verifying their losses. Some of the applications are from people I know, and I’m also learning about the losses of friends for the first time. I want to reach out, but I’m not sure if that’s appropriate given the circumstances. I can’t help but wonder how many of these artists we may lose.

One of the worst parts is that the vultures are circling. Shady property developers are out here looking for a fire sale—or rather, a hurricane sale. I get daily calls and texts from people trying to buy my house, and I know it’s no different for the commercial property owners. Normally, I’d ignore these things, but I’ve found a small amount of satisfaction in answering and pretending to be interested, just to see how many times I can drop the F-bomb before they hang up on me. Four is my record so far. These people need thicker skin if they’re going to make it in this line of work.

This was supposed to be the busy season for everyone—for the artists, the performers, the restaurants, and the hospitality workers. Now, many people are going into week four with little to no work. Despite their own situations, many have jumped into relief and recovery efforts. That’s what we do here—we take care of our own. There are initiatives in the works that will be announced next week, and they have the potential to raise millions of dollars. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.

One thing you can do if you’re from out of town is commit to buying art from Asheville artists this holiday season. Right now, you can contribute to the ArtsAVL Relief Fund. While I don’t believe there’s a compiled list of artists and studios that were affected yet, you can find an art directory here. I realize you may also want to support others who have been impacted, and although there isn’t a complete list, AVL Today has helped compile a list of affected businesses and individuals. Maybe coffee or yoga is your thing, and that’s the community you want to support. Unfortunately, there's no shortage of businesses or people who’ve been affected by this—no limits on the type or number. It’s a whole mixed bag of hurt out here. But hey, every little bit of support helps!

There are a number of other initiatives in the works, from creating maker spaces to an event I’m working on in Nashville. Stay tuned for more info.

There’s so much more to share, including some stories that have made me salty. Well-meaning yet clueless people have contributed to that feeling. The fact that there are no more SBA loan funds for small businesses—and that it won’t change because Congress is not in session due to the election—makes me particularly salty. I don’t really feel the need to relive some of these stories, as they were exhausting the first time around.

This week wasn’t without its small victories, though. We got water on the 20th day after the storm. We can’t drink it, shower with it, or use it to wash our hands or dishes, but by golly, you can flush a damn toilet with it—and that feels like the win we all needed.