Two weeks after the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, Candice Gawne had an epiphany. Sipping tea with her husband at the local Think Cafe, the artist realized she was ready to get back to work, something she'd had trouble doing.

She was not alone. How to make art in the wake of such destruction was a question that chilled many creative voices across the nation after Sept. 11.

But, says the San Pedro, Calif., artist, just as rescue workers did their jobs, she came to see that her job - her contribution - was in her art. Immediately, sketches began to flow.

Playwright Paul Jordan faced a similar stall out. A comedic writer by nature, he says it was hard to pen anything funny after Sept. 11. But, says the native New Yorker, whose brother is a retired policeman, "I came to feel that [since] I'm from that area, these are the people whose stories I need to tell."

Ms. Gawne and Mr. Jordan are typical of individuals and organizations in

all the arts. Often, the initial reaction was to stop working. The Boston Symphony Orchestra, for example, canceled performances of music from "The Death of Klinghoffer," an opera based on a terrorist attack on a cruise ship. Broadway and Off-Broadway theaters shut down for several days, and reopened to smaller crowds.

But singers have also already recorded songs, such as country music star Alan Jackson's "Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)" and patriotic standards are finding new audiences. Lee Greenwood's classic anthem "God Bless the USA" is the top-selling country single in the United States.

Art does not provide blankets or bandages, but in the face of tragedy, food for the mind and solace for the soul are just as important.

"Whether it's cultural trauma, or simply the nature of being alive, living here on the planet, the arts provide multiple perspectives, a sense of knowing and understanding, a sense that there's not one way to deal with complexity and ambiguity," says Los Angeles County Museum curator Robert Sain. "The arts provide a foundation for self-reflection and critical analysis."

Self-examination was the point of departure for Gawne's return to work.

"I started having a dialogue with myself," says the painter, who also works as a light sculptor. "Why had this happened? What would our national response be? As well as, 'Who am I as an artist, and what will my contribution be?' " She found herself working out variations of the American flag on a series of parchment sketch papers.

"I started feeling very fortunate as an artist, as a woman, to have the time to think, and that I have this medium, this [light sculpture], this life glow that I can use to express it," she says.

An abstract flag centered around a single glowing star emerged. She decided this was the image she wanted to explore.

"People come [to the US] from all over to learn who they are, to explore these words, 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,' " says the native Californian, who also teaches art in local schools. "Here I was with all three" in abundance, she adds.

She created a glowing red, white, and blue light sculpture, filled with argon gas, making a limited edition of 250.

Playwright Jordan decided to craft a single play from three one acts, all focused on the impact of the attacks. "September 25th" does not tackle the event itself. That task, the playwright says, was too daunting. He points to the iconic masterwork of Pablo Picasso, "Guernica." It was created within two months of the bombing of a small Basque town during the Spanish civil war. "But even this great artist avoided the event itself," he says. Picasso focused instead on the impact of the bombings.

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