“How do you keep your heart open?” is a central question in my art practice. I have returned to it over several years. Whenever I think of this question, I think of Susan O’Malley (1976–2015). Susan and I shared overlapping interests as artists, especially psychological well-being and happiness. Making art about emotions (which are sometimes presumed to be unworthy of serious consideration) requires emotional vulnerability and outsized courage. These are traits that made Susan and her life and legacy so remarkable.

To me, “keeping one’s heart open” means experiencing setbacks, adversities, pain, loss, or grief—such as witnessing injustices and conflicts in the world—and responding not by becoming numb, cynical, or withdrawn, but by steadfastly remaining vulnerable and feeling, open to trusting others, choosing optimism, and staying engaged. It is to heal wounds with scar tissue alive with nerves, not hiding behind protective armor that desensitizes, distances, and diminishes the possibilities of humanization.

To keep one’s heart open is to embrace a mindset of abundance, rather than a mindset of scarcity; to opt for connection and generosity, rather than self-preservation; and to work towards belonging, rather than othering.   

American media and culture gravitate towards stories with satisfying conclusions. We are discomfited by ambiguity, open-ended-ness, and holding two opposing ideas in mind. Sometimes we react to suffering as a problem that needs to be fixed. Yet, life for individuals means encountering uncertainty and pain. Humanity’s survival requires us to rise to immense challenges. How will we deal with global income inequality and climate disasters? We can’t seek easy, comfortable answers. We can’t be “saved” by “strong leaders.” We can’t end racism without discomfort, conflict, and making mistakes. We can become more adaptive and resilient by letting go of the need for tidy resolution, learning to tolerate ambiguity, and living with the full spectrum of human emotion. 

I chose to create the final billboard design as a pencil drawing, which has been cut and re-composed by hand. Normally, I make art that looks more “finished.” With a drawing like this, I’d usually ink and digitize it to remove evidence of sketching, labor, process, and mistakes. But keeping your heart open isn’t tidy and flawless. It isn’t about achieving closure. It is a continual process of exploration, feeling, risk-taking, and revising. 

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