Well then
I had such plans.
I was going to be flexible and use the forced down time to experiment and test and oh! the possibilities! I was going to turn lemons into lemonade, not let the bastards get me down, be forward thinking, adaptable, adjustable, let the universe speak to me and guide me.
“HELLO.
WELCOME TO THE SHIT SHOW.
Say hello to your new friends, anxiety, uncertainty and depression. We were worried that taking care of your elderly mother and confronting your deep, childhood issues weren’t enough so besides the icing of climate change, we doubled down on the geo-political corruption and pandemic without a good leader at the helm.
JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE WHAT’S IN STORE FOR WINTER!”
–Thus spoke The Universe
They said… that $600 unemployment would be available to self-employed and gig workers. So I applied. And waited. And waited. And got on the auto-call back queue (which I’m still on). And checked in and claimed every two weeks until the term ran out. <crickets>
They reopened retail. My galleries slowly started selling again. I did get some small checks with fingers crossed for more but oh boy, the forecast for the fall and winter months looks bad. All my outdoor festivals have cancelled. I am going to have to move the rest of my work not in local galleries to an online presence. Sometimes it feels as if the universe is trying to stop me from making art.
That’s just the physical part, the business part. Mentally? Wow has this taken a toll on me. I wish I was better at processing old traumas. I wish I was better at quickly switching from emotional fragility to practicality and creativity. Time gets away from me often. Plans I have at the beginning of the day have repeatedly been derailed by something elder-care related by the end of the day.
And the news.
And the pandemic.
By the end of the day, after my husband goes to sleep for work, I’m just looking for escape. The good thing is substance and excess alcohol consumption are not on the menu. Instead, I’m consuming Star Trek, The Next Generation episodes and odd YouTube videos. My meditation schedule has blossomed. Not necessarily long sessions but more sessions peppered throughout the day. Hoorah. Still, motivational paralysis has taken root pretty firmly so I just try to keep my goals small, putting one foot in front of the other, celebrating just one thing going right. These past several months have felt isolating. As if everyone else is just getting on with life yet I’m floundering. Badly.
Our water went dry the other morning. Turned on the taps and nothing. My mind was plotting contingency plans of ditching the studio work and then calculating the time it would take to drive around and get gallons of water for the day. If it was just me and my husband, we’d be fine but my 92-year-old mother can’t adapt to that. Another day down the drain? FORTUNATELY (celebrate the one thing going right), the water main was fixed within a few hours thanks to the water peeps but it’s that kind of constant problem solving that fuels my hyper-vigilance and then ultimately keeps me stressed and tired, tired, so tired.
Beyond the emotional paralysis that the anxiety and depression have cultivated, the other symptom that has accompanied me during these times is so much difficulty concentrating for more than a minute on… well, anything. I drift. A LOT. And yet, I’m still making things. (How does that happen?) Not as much as last year, for sure, but still managing to get some work out. And I have a small order to fill for a regional shop. Wild. I’ve tried to mix it up when I’m making things. I made a sculpture which has yet to be glaze fired. I have a sculpture from last year that has yet to be assembled. I worked on a bunch of small abstract water colors and gouache pantings. I did some small drawings. so Yay Me! right?
Thank god I finally voted.
So to all you super-producers, you makers of things, you helpers of people, you givers of care, you coronavirus survivors and those who have lost someone to the disease, to all of you who keep putting one foot in front of the other but privately think you just can’t take it and everyone else seems to have it all together while you’re quietly going crazy, remember, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
