Reflections on films, politics, and everything else.

If COVID-19 is producing the stages of grief for most of us, then there should be a sixth stage by now – aggravation. I certainly don’t support the small, but loud, group of protestors, as I think states and cities have reopened too soon. We’ve already lost 100,000 people and surely won’t have a vaccine any time soon, regardless of what Agent Orange claims. For me it’s just the daily annoyances of what the new reality is that’s beginning to drive me crazy. While many of my fellow citizens are choosing to chuck their masks, I’m still holding firm. But now that it’s feeling like summer in the Midwest, even walking around in a mask is fairly unpleasant during much of the day. Yesterday, on a trip to the pharmacy I went through the drive-thru, and luckily noticed before leaving that there was an error. It seemed to make sense to me at the time to actually go inside, but that, I found out, required not just the mask, which I was already wearing, but also I’d ne

Two months ago, when the seriousness of the pandemic finally hit Ohio, I didn’t know how I’d fill my days with so much closed. There were fitness and leisure companies offering their website’s paid content for free, but I couldn’t seem to be bothered. With the weather turning warmer, I went out on long walks. I tried buying a few crafting kits at JoAnn Fabrics online, but they sold out before I could go pick them up. Maybe embroidery and latch hook just weren’t meant for me. The one thing I did connect with was Creative Mornings virtual FieldTrips . I had never used Zoom before, but now two months later I’ve been on probably a hundred of these sessions. I did follow-up with what seems like a more knowledgeable dermatologist, who prescribed a face cream that is helping my skin condition slowly, and hasn’t sent me to urgent care. Still, I’m a bit sensitive about how I look, so have alternated between the standard black screen on Zoom with my name, sometimes the full name, other times

Some articles lately have referred to COVID-19 along with the stages of grief, and that we need to be at “acceptance” now. Two months into it, I’m finally there. As unsettling as the empty parks were, now I’m getting anxious as people start coming out in groups thanks to both the warming weather and the unfounded belief by many that re-opening means it’s all okay now. It’s definitely not all okay. I’ve accepted that this virus is here and it’s not going away anytime soon. I still keep having trouble creating a daily routine, but some of the anxiety has lessened enough to allow my COVID brain to be able to start reading and watching some digital content again. I’ve been drawn to mysteries and police procedurals, which I always loved, and that tend to show up on public television during the summer months. It may not be summer yet, but keeping track of the days is a challenge, so why not pretend it’s summer? Focusing on who the killer is and why they did it is a better dist

So much of what I used to do still isn’t available. That’s not a complaint. I don’t plan on protesting, as I feel Ohio, while making restrictions, has been pretty generous (maybe too generous) as far as being able to get out and about. Most of us wouldn’t have survived China, Italy, or the UK’s real lock-downs. I have found other ways to fill up my days, but not necessarily all that productively. There have been some virtual film festivals that I might not have been able to attend that I was still able to either see the films or watch interviews with the filmmakers, which has been a nice upside to this insanity. Mostly, though, I just feel stuck. That’s not anything new for me. I tend to stay stuck (in the past it was in toxic workplaces) until I just can’t stand it anymore and have to do something. I’m trying to find that something . There are two experimental sketches this time. The first illustrates my stuckness , or the pauses so many of us are enduring. The s