The state of the art of putting us (back) together
It’s Sunday in America, a new, greater America, where already thanks to tariffs, grocery and drugstore shelves are going bare, especially of paper products, because most of our wood for paper comes from (check notes) Canada. So. Fucking. Great. When I’m not freaking out about the country, I focus my mind on art. Then I remember that Trump, who is clearly not really running the country, decided to spend his valuable time to get “elected” by the “board” to head the Kennedy Center, which just two days ago quietly cancelled all LGBTQ+ Pride events for 2025. But because this is Trump, his own big Kennedy Center celebration of his First 100 Days sees him ousted from that same Kennedy Center for “contract violations.” You can make this up.
But really, this shit show is serious. In an interview on Democracy Now, Maria Ressa (6-minute mark), recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, draws disturbingly urgent parallels between the behavior of the Trump and his administration and former president of the Philippines Rodrigo Duterte, now in the custody of the International Criminal Court (ICC). Trump only learns from the best people. Ressa concludes that if Trump and his FBI and his ICE aren’t reined in by summer, our democracy will be obliterated and most likely for good. She’s just following history.
And the more I read and listen, the more correct I feel I was back in 2020 when I told all the liberals, who are as addicted to Trump as the MAGA who drink his blood, that they/we need to ignore the Big (Burger) King and target the minions who do his bidding, target the structures, and more than that, message the alternatives in actionable, relatable ways, not from On High. For however well-meaning AOC and Bernie are in their Farewell to Democracy tours, and Cory Booker for his stand-ins and sit-ins, they have no actual strategy for saving the country; they do not think like generals, and we need generals right now.
I read about a recent viral Facebook post claiming that Liz Cheney penned a letter saying, “Dear Democratic Party, I need more from you. You keep sending emails begging for $15, while we’re watching fascism consolidate power in real time.” According to Snopes and PolitiFact, there’s no evidence that Cheney wrote it, but you can tell that the average Democrat who probably did is trying hard to get our party’s attention, because Democratic Leaders are so sure they don’t need We, the People, for advice, only cash.
I’ve been trying to understand the Democratic Leadership’s “vamp until ready” stasis. In the theater, the orchestra pit plays music over, and over, or “vamp,” at moments of a show, to cover a set change. In the case of the U.S., there’s a regime change, or a shift from a presidency to a regime, and if this were a show, it would be as if instead of playing bars of music on repeat, the orchestra itself was replacing instruments with jack hammers and table saws.
I mentioned in my last missive that I’ve been rereading Sondheim’s lyric memoirs, and the other night I came across this, and it made me think of the floundering Democrats:
“The point of a tryout is to fix a show, and by the end of the Chicago run, we should have been making changes in the scenes and the songs and the staging. But we couldn’t, because the day after the show opened, Hal [Prince, director] had to go to Germany to receive an award and then leave for vacation. Not that he thought the show was in perfect shape when he left; he simply felt that whatever changes we wanted to make could be accomplished on paper and put into practice later when we went back into rehearsal for the Washington engagement….
“It was a serious miscalculation. We were all experienced enough to know that the time to fix a show is when it’s still raw, before it has started to become slick and rigid, when no one, neither the creators nor the performers, not to mention the audience is satisfied. Without constant attention while a show is taking shape, it doesn’t need many performances before it becomes so efficient that what’s bad becomes acceptable.”
— Stephen Sondheim on the making of the show Bounce, 2003 (from Look, I Made a Hat, 2011, p. 270)
Kids, I think to myself, we don’t have a lot of time to fix this democracy. We have to attack now, while it’s all still raw, while the chaos is still real and awful. Do not relent. Call and email your representatives, keep talking to friends. I long for leadership, but it’s not forthcoming.
As we watch our prices rise and shelves empty because shipments cease, as more and more all of us can only focus on basic survival, the energy for revolution will wane—I think that’s what the MAGA Men and their little MAGA Barbies are banking on—and it can’t. We still have to do that work inside ourselves and push it out.
This week, I happened on an episode of Craft in America on Public Television (soon to be RIP unless we stop it, somehow), in which I saw a quilt artist—that’s right, the photo below is of a quilt. The quilt was based on a photograph of a Nicaraguan garment worker in a sweat shop.

On artist Teresa Agnew, from Craft in America:
“Terese Agnew’s work has evolved from sculpture to densely embroidered quilts by a process she calls drawing with thread. Her themes are environmental and social. Her most notable quilt to date is the Portrait of a Textile Worker, constructed of thousands of clothing labels stitched together, contributed by hundreds of sympathetic individuals, labor organizations, Junior League members, students, retired and unemployed workers, friends, family and acquaintances worldwide. The resulting image is about the exploitation and abuse of laborers, the by-products of globalization and the insatiable American appetite for goods.”
The quilt was created using solely garment labels. Zoom in.

I learned that Agnew found her P.O. box filled day after day with volunteer labels, mostly from people she didn’t know, all women, all who believed in her vision for this piece, her purpose, her message, and in this art form. All these people came together, and Agnew didn’t even know how they learned she was working on the piece.
I think of that artist, and I think of Sondheim, on the road with three iterations of a show that started as Wise Guys, and become Bounce, a decade later finished as Road Show, bit by bit, putting it together, as it were, because it was something he and his collaborators believed in.
If so many people can work that hard to make art that matters, can’t we call work together to demand a nation, a planet, we all want to live on? As Sondheim says,
A vision’s just a vision if it’s only in your head.
If no one gets to see it, it’s as good as dead.
America, your Miss O’ is looking at all of us and thinking, “We need a do-over, a rethink.” Fast. We overproduce all the wrong stuff, overconsume the wrong stuff, overwork in the wrong ways, overpay for the most basic things, like healthcare and rent, and overthink everything about the past instead of overthinking for the present and the future. We need to take all these scattered feelings and thoughts and make, build a national living quilt from all the tattered bit and leftovers, craft it for warmth and strength and beauty for generations and generations.
How many metaphors can you handle this Sunday?
It’s still spring, we are still alive. More to do. Let’s do it.
Sending love to all,
Miss O’
