Among other things, one of the phenomena of the past weeks that seems to be universal is how hard it is to keep track of time, a fact that is hitting close to home. Even though both my husband and I have kept to our regular schedules (there’s been no break in his work routine so, for the most part, my days also appear unchanged), I still find my sense of time is warped.
Counterintuitively, with no out-of-the-house activities, no outside meetings, no visits to exhibitions or “art dates” with friends…heck, no activities at all beyond walking the dog and going to the grocery store and post office, the weeks seem to fly by. And yet, when I think back to something only a week past, it seems like months ago. This must be partially due to the general lack of variety between days, and I’m sure the unrelenting quick-fire news cycle also contributes. But whatever the cause, it’s been disorienting.
Listening to podcasts while stitching has been my touchstone with the outside world and a means for gaining perspective. I’m listing a few below that have been particularly helpful.
Back in March, Gretchen Rubin of Happier recommended keeping a coronavirus journal — not necessarily a written diary, but some way of marking this unusual time. What I find most helpful about her suggestion is it is malleable enough to accommodate whatever need each of us feels during this time. When we emerge on the other side, as we will, the details that feel so important and pervasive right now will be easily forgotten. I’d rather not forget.
For one artist’s solution, check out Elizabeth Le Serviget’s approach to remembering each day. It’s clever without being all-consuming. And, if you have time while on the Highland Center for the Arts website, take a few moments to treat yourself to exploring the work of all the artists who have submitted to “The Show Must Go On-Line”, a virtual gallery where artists show work and briefly discuss how their practice has been affected in the past months. This is but another example of how art entities are resourcefully maintaining engagement despite being shuttered.
If you’re struggling with concentration or with work in general, you aren’t alone. Artists Louise Fletcher and Alice Sheridan address their COVID-19 experiences, their changes in working habits, sense of malaise, and general frustration in Episode #69 “Frayed nerves, broken glass, and really…what’s the point?” on their podcast Art Juice. Their down-to-earth manner leaves one feeling less adrift and more hopeful.
Perhaps my favorite listen so far has been “Jenny Odell on nature, art and burnout in quarantine” on The Ezra Klein Show. She talks about living in the world right now, the role of art in this moment, why we undervalue the most important work in our society (so key!), where to find beauty right now, the tensions of productivity, and the melting of time. So much to absorb and so worth it…fascinating and important on all those many levels. (Thanks Stu)
And for anyone who is a fan of El Anatsui’s work, especially fiber artists, The Lonely Palette’s re-release of Episode 15: El Anatsui’s “Black River” is superb. Host Tamar Avishai’s description of the unique qualities of working with textiles is spot-on, giving the medium the articulate and sensitive recognition that is all too often lacking. One can’t help but think about the inherent, labor and time-intensive nature of many textile processes and how becoming lost in the flow of the making is yet another means of warping time.
Finally, it seemed just the right moment to reread one of my favorites: May Sarton’s 1973 Journal of a Solitude. I tried to absorb it in a slow and measured way, but each entry was so insightful that it was like eating popcorn — no stopping. Aside from the obvious link with our current experience of isolation, it also resonates for its quiet observations that shine a light on the comfort to be found in the most ordinary of life’s occurrences (e.g. the changing seasons, light falling just so on flowers from the garden, a pet’s morning greeting), the things that act like glue, holding both good times and bad together.
It’s human nature to want to find ways to mark the passage of time and certain points within it, to remember, to be able to look back and make sense of a confusing and uncertain period. I wonder how you are choosing to do so, and how your choice is affecting your experience right now. There will be much wealth in the art that emerges in the months and years ahead. My hope is that it will lead us toward a better understanding of how, going forward, the pandemic has changed not just the world around us, but the core of ourselves.
You hit right to the heart of it in words and images. You truly are a beautiful human!
I’m blushing – thank you for your ever-present attention and encouragement!
Betsy, your house for the “Sheltering in Place” exhibit is wonderful – says so much without words. Thanks for sharing.,.and all the podcasts!
Thanks Karen – it’s so helpful to hear mid-process that something is working beyond just within my own brain. And you’re welcome re:the podcasts — let me know if any of them were particularly worthwhile.
Wonderful blog today. Your new work on the house is fantastic. You must be working all day and night. Thanks for the inspirational books etc. to look at during this time.
Thanks so much Judy. The house has been a fun & positive project to work on during this weird time. Hope you and Brian are well.
Thanks for the Frayed nerved podcast recommendation. It was an interesting listen.
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, thanks for letting me know.
Betsy,
Your shelter looks so nice! Just got mine in the mail today.
I have been listening to audiobooks while I rest up from my surgery. I find I can concentrate better and don’t have to hold a book.
The Journal of Solitude looks interesting, gonna try and track it down.
Stay well!
P
I loved seeing your shelter on Instagram today! Let me know what you think of Sarton’s book if you find it in audio. Heal quickly.