A Little Bit Of Hope [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on January 15, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

We were gifted a day with sunshine instead of the incessant rain promised by the forecast. We threw on our vests and headed for the trail. We stopped at every sun-soaked curve and drank in the warmth. “This will get us through the next few weeks,” she said. A little bit of sun in a dark, dark time generates a full tank of hope.

The rubber band disintegrated and the ancient roll of tracing paper unraveled. It revealed a crinkled and torn tracing of a painting I completed decades ago. I have no memory of making this tracing. I don’t trace my paintings. I must have wanted to keep a template or record of the lines. I must have been about to send the painting out into the world. In the spirit of experimentation, in a spontaneous moment of play, I adhered the crumpled ripped tracing to an old canvas, retraced the lines with the last bit of charcoal I had in the studio, sprayed it with hairspray in an attempt to fix the charcoal, and slathered it with acrylic medium. It was messy and fun and decidedly un-serious. I had no idea what would happen. It reminded me of how I worked when I was very young. No – not how. Why. It reminded me of why I ran to the edge of every idea and jumped without reservation or plan or parachute: to find out “what if”. Playing with that tracing paper was like the little bit of sun on the trail. I basked in it. It will carry me a long way.

I’ve been thinking about Renee Nicole Good. I am haunted by something in the video made by her executioner. In the last 25 seconds of her life, she told her soon-to-be murderer that she’s not mad at him. As a citizen of the United States, as someone who lived her entire life under First Amendment protections, as someone who believed in the freedom to protest and the rights afforded her in the Constitution, it never occurred to her – not for a moment – that her life was in danger. It never occurred to her that her rights were null and void in the eyes of the regime that employed and empowered the man in the mask. He was there, not to protect her rights, but to make her an example. He was there to strip her (and, therefore, us) of her/our rights. The hope? The people gathering on the streets blowing whistles, the people protecting each other by recording each outrage, the small acts and gestures of everyday people, like Renee Good, who believe in exercising the freedoms and values afforded us in the Constitution…are like that little bit of sun. Renee Good’s unwavering belief, like the people who show up on the streets for their neighbors, like the people marching against this tyranny – around the nation and the world – give me hope. And a little bit of hope in this very dark time can carry us a long way.