He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned

Happy New Year!

As we step into 2025, it’s impossible to ignore the anniversaries and reflections that early January brings. This week marks four years since a moment in history that highlighted just how divided we can be. I'm sure we all have our opinions about that day, and I'm confident that you know what mine are. But instead of revisiting that division, I want to talk about something that rises above moments like that with the possibility of bringing us together: art.

Gary and I spent last weekend with his parents. It's been a rare occurrence these past few months to gather without coordinating hospital visits or doctor’s appointments. Gary’s mom is battling some health challenges, so having a weekend where we could simply be together was a gift. We did puzzles, made great food, and Ted enjoyed walks in the desert sun.

Even better, we got to see my brother, who flew in from Ecuador for his birthday. It had been years since we last connected, and reconnecting with him felt good. His children live in Phoenix, so we got to see them too. We shared stories, food, and marveled at how life keeps moving forward. One of his daughters, who happened to coordinate Gary’s and my wedding 24 years ago, turned 50 this year—a milestone that left me in shock. That shock, although very personal, seems like a pretty universal phenomenon.

Amid the joy of reconnecting, there was a subtle, “he-who-must-not-be-mentioned” kind of tension that Gary and I admittedly carry like an invisible guest to many gatherings. This uninvited presence often feels as though it sits at the table with us, a quiet reminder of the divides that can creep into family dynamics. But this time, we were determined to invite something new and different to show up instead.

Like many families, we’re not immune to political differences. In the past, these differences have sparked heated debates, hurt feelings, and even stretches of silence.

It wasn’t exactly planned, but somehow the conversation found its way to creativity and beauty.

Joel’s niece shared stories about her significant other, who organizes a large art show in Phoenix, and we talked about the impact that art has in the world. It was a conversation that flowed naturally, without the tension of opposing viewpoints.

Art became a bridge—a shared passion that gave us something to connect over. It reminded me of how powerful creativity can be in bringing people together, even when other aspects of life might push us apart.

The Power of Art to Unite

Art has this remarkable ability to level the playing field. It invites us to set aside our differences and step into a shared experience. Whether it’s a painting, a piece of music, or a photograph, art doesn’t care who you voted for or what you believe. It simply asks you to feel something.

I see this same phenomenon on a grander scale when I think about museums like MoMA. This morning, while scrolling through their online exhibits, I came across two pieces that perfectly capture this unifying power of art.

The first is the Event Horizon Telescope Collaboration: Galaxy M87.

It’s the first-ever photograph of a black hole—a staggering feat of human collaboration and ingenuity. Here’s what one of the creative team members had to say:

I was struck by the beauty of this idea. A black hole—something we can’t even see with our eyes—brought together scientists, engineers, and thinkers from across the globe. For a moment, it didn’t matter what differences they had; they were united by a shared goal.

The second piece is Unsupervised by Refik Anadol. This immersive digital installation portrays what a “machine might dream about” after seeing the collection at MoMA. This is AI at its best, and I LOVE the thought behind it. A MoMA security guard described it perfectly:

Reading this, I couldn’t help but think back to my family weekend. Like the visitors gathered around Unsupervised, we found unity in something bigger than ourselves. Art, in its many forms, creates these moments of connection.

Why Art Matters

In a world that often feels divided, art offers a rare opportunity to bridge the gaps between us. It invites us to step out of our silos and into a shared human experience.

Art isn’t about agreement—it’s about connection. You don’t have to love the same pieces or interpret them the same way. What matters is the conversation it sparks and the emotions it evokes.

This is what I hope for in 2025: more bridges, fewer walls. And maybe, just maybe, those bridges start with a painting, a sculpture, or even a conversation about a favorite song.

As we move into this new year, I challenge you to think about the role art plays in your life. When was the last time a piece of art made you feel connected to someone else? Was it a photograph? A poem? A movie?

Let’s make space for those moments in 2025. They’re small, yes, but they remind us of our shared humanity. And in times like these, that reminder is everything.