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
distraction for me than Tiger King.
One routine that has been helpful has
been the online experimental film class. I still feel like a duck out of water
at times, but I like the nudge to create, and especially something a bit away
from what I had been doing.
I was rather pleased with the last two
weeks short sketches (again, one shot, one minute, no editing). The response to
the class from two weeks ago utilized the curtains we put up earlier this year,
and that I’d noticed in the late afternoon serve as quite the proscenium to the
too-close-to-our-house pear tree. The neutral color of the drapes, along with the
tree's shadow, serve as a lovely distraction that I’ve grown to look forward
to. Adding a glass reflector abstracted and enhanced that show.
This past week’s sketch highlighted the
new solar Christmas lights my husband hung. With the stay-at-home orders, there
have been calls to place stuffed animals in windows for children to see, as
well as putting up lights and other decorations. The lights on their own were
rather static, but shot through the textured glass on our front door, along
with a moving flashlight and a lightly playing hand bell, they were transformed into
something else entirely.
A few of the participants mentioned how
that short film had made them feel safe, portraying a welcoming quality, like a
lighthouse. At the time, I wasn’t really sure what I wanted out of the shot. I
was trying to add some energy and movement. Not wanting to startle either my
cat or my sleeping husband late at night, I kept the bell rather quiet. Looking at the
footage later I saw my COVID mind quite clearly –
trying to make sense out of
everything that is constantly changing, confusing, and opaque, being
distracted by nagging worries and fears, and looking for some calm and comfort along the way.