I'm calling this "defiant joy"

It's playtime, dammit

A friend and I were texting back and forth about the dark turn on college campuses, what with the White House cancelling research grants and putting academic freedom on ice. “My nerves are shot,” my friend said. Mine, too, I thought, even as my kids’ college years are coming to an end.

We poured out our worries and how (if?) we’re managing. My mood is a pinball that ricochets at random:

“I go from this weird playfulness to stunned horror to a desire to run down the street cursing. But at least I’m playing with art supplies! That’s…something? I swear, my urge to take in the magnolias or dabble with watercolors or take walks in the neighborhood is almost defiant.”

The word defiant just came tumbling out. I hadn’t put a finger on it, but there’s definitely a shade of rebellion in my adamant, almost manic pursuit of beauty and fun.

At the moment, that includes playing with my kids’ old art- and school supplies.

The playing is even more surprising than the drawing

During one of my death cleaning sessions, I came across a set of washable markers, some watercolor pencils and a little paintbrush and my daughter’s fancy inking pens. I decided to give them a go.

This is a departure for an earnest word person like me. I gravitate toward deep thought rather than play, and mindlessly insist I can’t draw. But I’m not really drawing right now, I’m messing around with colors and lines and having fun.

Turns out playing is fun. WHO KNEW.

My random doodling has led me to seek out drawing teachers and sketchbook artists on Substack. I’m not looking for instruction, necessarily, but I’m loving the visual inflow and company. This creative wandering also feels playful, like exploring a new neighborhood and meeting a few residents.

I already knew about

Wendy MacNaughton

of

DrawTogether with WendyMac

which I now see as more of a joyous movement than a newsletter. I also found

Amy Stewart

, a Portland writer and artist whose lively visual newsletter,

It's Good to Be Here

, is a treat. So is

The Habit of Art by Kelcey Ervick

by Indiana writer and professor

Kelcey Ervick

.

Each of these writers makes drawing seem so inviting.

Amy’s newsletter led me to Skillshare classes on urban sketching. (She’s a teacher as well.) When my free trial membership to Skillshare ended, I moved on to YouTube videos.

High on momentum after a video, I grabbed a pen and looked for something to sketch. There, lying next to my journal, was my phone. 20 minutes later:

I drew my phone! And it looks like a phone!

I’m not going to lie: I blew my own mind with this sketch. (It doesn’t take much to blow my mind.) Not because my drawing is a masterpiece, but because it’s something I didn’t believe I could do. Not then, not ever.

That little drawing gave me 20 minutes of joy.

Let me rephrase: I gave myself 20 minutes of joy.

But what’s defiant joy?

Joy is valuable all on its own, full stop. But there’s something more to the defiant joy I was talking about earlier with my friend.

Jenna Park

and

Eden (formerly Mrs.) Kennedy

both got at this idea in recent essays.

Jenna was surprised by how much her local Hands Off protest moved her. She also recognized that feel-good energy, while crucial to well-being, only goes so far. To spark change, that energy has to be funneled into action.

Sure, joy is resistance, but that is more about self-preservation—it’s not going to spark actual change.

She went on to say:

But this particular march wasn’t really about enacting change; nobody was under the illusion that we could achieve that by standing in a park waving a sign or that these rallies would lead people directly to polls. Many of us went because we wanted to feel something other than fear and anger. What we got from that day was community, humanity, and hope.

➡️ Read the full essay at

Everything is Liminal

.

Eden got at a similar point while noting the therapeutic effect of lugging heavy furniture.

So now we’re fighting fascism with housework?

➡️ For the answer to that question, read the full essay at

The Platypusary

.

My sketching isn’t particularly notable and I know it won’t change much beyond my journal. But it’s a spark. That’s defiant joy.

As we’re bombarded by the gleeful destruction of American institutions, even a tiny act of creation feels audacious. A spark that can eventually lead to bigger, brighter, change.

I’d love to hear what’s giving you energy right now. Does “defiant joy” resonate? Also: are there art-related folks I should know about (including you)?

Comments are open to everyone for one week after publication. Paid supporters get unlimited access to comments, the full, unlocked archive, and my heartfelt gratitude.

---

NOTES OF NOTE

• Thank you, Jenna and Eden, for helping me clarify my thinking.

• Karen Walrond
  introduced me to “intentional amateurism” and I’m running with it. Read her post In Defense of Dabbling and, while you’re there, check out the beautiful cover of her next book. 🌈

• This is my approach to political talk: Can’t we just *not* talk about politics?

• More fun practice in the archives: Throwing Myself a Birthday Party and Grownup Sleepovers.

---

Thanks for reading Parent of Adults, my invitation to compare notes on life beyond the empty nest. I’m Asha Dornfest, a Portland, Oregon-based author & parent of two young adults.

➡️ Learn more about Parent of Adults or subscribe now for free.

---