Art in the Time of Quarantine
Since the quarantine mandate went into effect last Tuesday, I have been spending time editing photographs. I am always saying “I wish I had time to work on my own photos.” Inherent within this statement I privately acknowledge an equally true statement that “ I wish I had the discipline and energy to work on my own photos, in my off hours from my (beloved) day job.” I have found, and many artists will corroborate this, that discipline seems to settle in once the space has been afforded, and vice versa. It is an elusive balance which I trick myself into harnessing as often as possible amidst the flow of everyday life.
But here we are now. Time is forced towards me with anxious inertia. I have read several essays (like this one) about why it is so unreasonable to expect productivity during such an epic and unfathomable international crisis such as this, and I agree. I think this has made most of us (re)consider our daily routines and identities, at least as far as they relate to working. Of course we are preoccupied by heavy existential problems which beg questions of mortality (so unfair) and god (who’s watching?) and the human condition (awful, am I right?) not to mention practical and societal problems (where will I get the money to pay next month’s rent? the money to provide for my kids? okay…but what about when that money runs out?)
I am not a medical professional or a therapist, out there risking my own life or emotional stability to do my work. I am not a government official, swiftly reorganizing protocols and allocating funds. I do not own a sewing machine, fabric, or possess the skills to make a mask. I do not have savings enough to donate large sums to all of those whom I want to support. My service job has not been deemed essential, like that of a delivery person, goods warehouse employee, or grocery store employee. I cannot support my community by being a rock for them each day at my coffeeshop; I cannot offer a big smile and hug and the eye-contact that says “though we may be strangers, I hold you in my gaze with respect and love in this moment.” I cannot do my work there, performing a function which connects to the complex supply chain that is Coffee, which strives to uplift those who physically toiled to provide us with our daily coffee experience. It feels as though I am not allowed to engage in direct action, nor can I support in concrete ways even from the sidelines. It is a powerless feeling, the type of feeling that elicits prayer even in the agnostic. The only solace in some moments is the knowledge that our ancestors have cried these desperate tears countless times before, and we have survived. While I can give into despair at times, and not be convinced that survival is worth while, I consider the will in each one of us to try, the primal will that we have to stay alive and to help one another to stay alive.
The reason I want to work on my art whenever I can concentrate enough to do so (being lenient with myself when that is simply not happening) is because it is what I know how to do. It is what I can do.
Creativity, that inner flame which propels us to do whatever it is that we do- to me this is a way to connect to life force (and if you identify that with god, to that thing.) In addition to the unbelievable intelligence and fervor of scientists and the humbling bravery and fortitude of medical professionals, creativity (or inventiveness of spirit, as my dad would say) is what will get many of us through this quarantine. I want to be productive- I want to sink in to the bright memories I cared enough to capture on film over the past years of my life. I want to finally send people the photo I promised them. I want to feel into a new (and hopefully temporary) rhythm of creation and positive energy, even if that energy only revolves within the walls of my own home. Even though I am the daughter of two artists and have devoted so much of my life to art, I often question the worthiness of practicing art and often need to reinvigorate my own convictions. But we all need to get in where we fit in. Art can be anywhere from life-enriching to life-saving. Now I am calling upon my art practice to be life-sustaining. Creativity, inventiveness- this is a celebration of life, an example of why it is so important to find a cure, so others can continue to celebrate, to live. I will try to meditate within this space, as we all continue to be present and look for other ways to help our global family through this crisis.
When I sat down to write a caption for these images of my friend Cory, this is what poured out. It is nothing like what I planned. I meant to say something about how wonderful it is to spend time with these pictures which tell of a good time, with close proximity to joy and socializing in our favorite public spaces. That’s true too.