Life

living under lockdown

Shopping trips now are gloved, masked affairs where avoiding other shoppers a major priority. It’s bizarre and surreal. And yet food needs to be bought, these trips have to be made.

No more is there a 45 minute-1 hour commute to work. My desk is at the end of my bed and there’s no need to wake up at 5:15 am. No need, but I still try to get up at six because a routine is important damn it. Meetings are held over Microsoft Teams and instead of the radio, my own music plays.

Every day we are told the amount of people who have died – what caused alarm when we heard Italy’s, Spain’s and France’s death tolls, now seems part of the every day.

(Seven hundred today, I would call across the hall to my dad.)

(These are people – PEOPLE! With lives, and families and loved ones and hopes and dreams – all snuffed out and gone, leaving unfillable holes behind. A damn tragedy that can’t be communicated by numbers.)

(It seems that the Sword of Damocles hangs over everyone’s heads.)

It feels as though we are in a tonally off novel – I and my family are spending so much time together, enjoying nights around the fire in the garden, playing on the x-box, sharing meals, staring at the stars – and yet the world outside is one in which the illusion of immortally is thinner than ever and death seems even more present.

Reality intrudes in the form of crossing the road to avoid other pedestrians, a firm two metres between those queuing, the news online, tales from colleagues and friends on the front line, and delivery men who no longer wait for signatures but deposit their parcels on the doorstep.

And then the door closes, hands are washed and we are quiet again.

Keep going, friends – one foot in front of the other! Be kind – to yourself and others. Take comfort in beauty where you can find – a soft breeze, a blackbird’s song, a good conversation with a friend over Zoom or Messenger, or diving into a really good book.

I’ve found myself reading more than ever: Georgette Heyer, Elizabeth Peters, and C.S Lewis are keeping me company these days. I will keep blogging, I’m sure, but I often pull up a draft and stare at the blank whiteness of it and think but why?

And that’s okay. I’ll post again, soon – rambles about books and things I find interesting and all that sort of thing – but for now, this will do.

Stay safe!

Ness


God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

 Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;

Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.

psalm 46 v 1-3
Life

art, march, and goals for april

I can’t draw. Or at least, that’s the excuse I’ve used for years to hide the fact that I was incredibly disappointed with myself because I didn’t emerge from the womb a full-fledged Da Vinci. (No, I NEVER create high standards for myself. Pfft. Why do you ask?)

At the beginning of March, I thought – NO. MORE.

this was my first attempt at watercolour. his name is harnick. he is not a sea lion as i continuously referred to him. he is a seahorse.

I decided that I would take up sketching and sketch as often as I could. I would have an art journey and it was going to be long, arduous, and painful but I wanted to have a before and an after and draw a super duper eye gosh darn it!

I might not have talent, but I could pour in some time and see what happened.

It’s been a month now (what a month) and I find myself picking up the paintbrush rather than a pencil, choosing to use colour in a notebook rather than words on a document.

It’s so relaxing. So very relaxing. I focus on the page and the paint and not on the world which is whirling round and round with so much panic, confusion, hurt, and death and- I promised myself that it wouldn’t be a post about COVID-19. Dang it.

My writing has come to a standstill, but my hope is that in April this will change. My family is currently self-isolating, I am working from home and our country is in lockdown … so that should cut out commute time and free up some extra time.

(THIS IS LIKE BEING IN A DISASTER MOVIE.)

three brothers, me, and a work colleague wearing a mask – also SO MUCH TALENT HAHAHAHAHAHA. This will be a ‘before’ in my art journey i think maybe. i hope. I HOPE.

(Also, the idea of writing of worlds when my own is in such disarray seems preposterous to my subconscious mind.)

I look back on my ‘goals for march’ list and I could laugh at how much didn’t happen. I survived work, and we are currently weathering the virus. That’s what happened. Everything else, didn’t.

But that’s okay. March has been horrendous and surreal and just very much not normal. I’m not entirely sure what normal is going to look like. (My mind flies to one of those YA novels where everyone wears grey and the heroine is sixteen and suddenly THREE BOYS LIKE HER OH WOE IS HER HOW WILL SHE SURVIVE AND THE WORLD IS SO BLEAK AND ALL THE SKYSCRAPERS ARE ABANDONED AND FALLING DOWN LIKE BABEL.)

April goals? I’d like to write more. If it’s possible. I think I’ve managed to wipe off OneDrive from my computer (I AM A GENIUS!) and have tried to reload it and it’s just not working, dang it.

Ironically, the ‘surviving work’ goal for March has now transformed to ‘survive’ for April. Wasn’t quite expecting that. So. Plot twist.

oh yes, i can see this being a possible career move

This is Lilabet, by the way. She is calm, serene, and UNBELIEVABLY humble. Her hair has Medusa snakes and she’s spray-painted them brown. Rumor has it that that hand? It’s not hers. It could be plastic. From a mannequin. It’s far too small to be her natural hand.

(I CAN’T HELP IT – EVERYTHING I DRAW/PAINT HAS A BACKSTORY. Even a butterfly. I was painting its wings red and I just knew that they were angry wings and basically THE BUTTERFLY WOULD BE AT HOME IN THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.)

Keep going, old chum. Stay safe. Wash your hands. Stay at home. Pray. Look out for others – via phone, or email, or shouting over the fence. And try not to get dragged into the depressing cycle of endless Twitter and news websites. It’s no good. Nope. Nuh-uh.

As the newest Cinderella puts it:

have courage and be kind.