Shortly after November 8th, 2016, I stopped reading the newspaper entirely. Previous to the election of the 45th President I had been a regular subscriber to national and local newspapers and several political magazines. I’d been following some of the loudest voices on social media, and like many others, turning to SNL for comfort. Not even Justin Trudeau’s good looks were cheering me up. Not even a shirtless, boxing version of Justin Trudeau was cheering me up.

            Cancelling my subscriptions one by one I decided I didn’t want to be depressed every day. I’d convinced myself it was important to be informed, (this article was particularly humbling) but I also understood on some level that to care about everything was to care about nothing. By that I mean my attention was divided. 24-hour news and information weren’t making me more compassionate, if anything, the deluge was slowing my central processing and dulling my empathy to the point where I felt de-sensitized and cold all the time. Knowledge can lead to enlightenment, but spin can lead to cynicism, and I needed a remedy to my rapidly calcifying heart.

            I still wanted truth, but beauty, too.

            I wanted to feel, but not be crushed by the weight of the world.