“Isolation artwork” is filling my floor. Keeping busy keeps me sane!
Last night, I dreamt that this whole wretched virus thing was over. I remember feeling a complete sense of relief, but I also felt some regret. Don’t judge me — it was a dream. But I remember feeling regret. When I woke up and realized I was just dreaming, I spent some time analyzing what my brain had been processing. I realized there are certain things and habits that have become part of my daily rhythm that I don’t think I want to give up when this is all over.
As an introvert, I relished the idea of forced alone time the first few days of isolation. That elation lasted about thirty six hours and quickly turned to loneliness. I realized that even introverts need people. I found myself smiling and striking up conversations (from six feet away and mask on) with people I’ve past when I go on my daily walk around the neighborhood. When I see people now, there’s actually joy inside. As an introvert, this is a new experience for me, and I don’t ever want to lose that. I want to celebrate each time I can be in proximity to another person, because each one is a gift when you’re otherwise alone.
I like the thankfulness inside for small things.
Because my art studio in Asheville is currently under lockdown, I’m not there at all. I miss my studio a lot but I really like the forced slowdown in my creative pace. Yes, I’m busy but I’m spending a lot more time now (because I HAVE a lot more time now) in dreaming and thinking and planning new paintings. I’m not just cranking out as many oil paintings as possible, but I am experimenting (again, because I have lots of time on my hands) and I’ve found myself learning and growing a lot as a result. I don’t want that to end.
I like the thankfulness inside for small things. Who’d have ever thought I’d say a quick prayer of thanksgiving for toilet paper? I mean, really! I’m convinced I’m an amusement to God sometimes. :)
During this isolation (and because of this isolation), I’ve found myself thinking of someone and firing off an email or text message just to let them know I was thinking about them and thankful for them. I’ve rarely thought of doing that before now, but I miss the contact with people I just always took for granted before.
And also, during this time alone, I’ve rediscovered the joy of meditation and prayer. Just to be clear, by “prayer”, I’m just mean that I talk to God like someone talks to their beloved friend. I find that this time of intense “apartness” leaves me longing for intense “with-ness” with God. Personally, that’s very helpful for me. That time with Him is the only place in my head I can go and get a sense of being filled back up, and my creativity is simply an overflow of that filling. I could never create if I wasn’t constantly attentive to being filled.
So amidst the fear I feel these days, amidst the frustration that my Asheville studio is empty and dark now, amidst the sadness that walking around Asheville’s River Arts District (which should be busy with spring tourists now) is like walking around a ghost town, I feel a real sense that there are actually some really good things that have happened precisely because of (and not in spite of) this horrible virus. For that, I am profoundly thankful and hopeful. This pandemic will end one day and but it does, I want to keep some of the treasures I’ve dug up in the dark times. If they’re treasures in the dark, what the heck will they look like in the light? I would like to see.
