April 28, 2021 – Finding each other again across the Pandemiverse

The paintings I’ve done since the beginning of 2020

There is a very beloved Rumi poem that has the line:
“the world is too full to talk about”

This is where I am – where I have been for the past year or so. Lots has happened – for all of us on Planet Earth.
And also in my personal world. I wanted to catch up with you. I wrote this for you. I found a way to talk.

I find it, in some mysterious way, more distilled and simple
than telling you the whole long story of the past year.

FINDING EACH OTHER AGAIN ACROSS THE PANDEMIVERSE

Hi friends.
I know, it’s been a while.
I got swept up in it all.
It feels impossible to just pick up where we left off.
We have catching up to do.

Let’s start back there, then,
last winter – not just months,
but worlds ago.

It’s just like the flu, I said. (Yes, I really did!)
Thousands die of the flu every year.
Let’s not panic.

Hmm, maybe we don’t go to Paris in April.
Roberto reported in from Milan – Armageddon.
It’s spreading across Europe.
Oh, shit! This is NOT just like the flu.
We have to stay home.
Cancel Paris.
Leigh will come here, stay with us
in the studio-made-dorm-room.

Joe says get two weeks of food – no, three.
Instincts overtake people everywhere.
The shelves empty of toilet paper, carbs for the pantry,
and anything to kill the virus.
Joe orders TP and hand sanitizers on Amazon.
Months later they arrive – from Germany and Poland!
What a bizarre world!

Checking the NYT coronavirus updates every night at bedtime.
Sweet dreams, sweetheart.
If we all do this maybe in a few weeks, it’ll pass.
Innocent optimism.

It’s not passing.
Everyone is sewing masks.
And Zooming, Zooming, Zooming.
Human connection in 2D.
Balcony concerts and serenades explode on Youtube.
Outside howling at eight every evening.
I’m here, are you there?

The spring – more wondrous than ever.
In our yard lemon blossom petals make a creamy carpet.
Bees and fragrance in 3D.
Humans everywhere mesmerized by the quiet,
by the creatures filling the space relinquished back to them.

What in the heck is a bubble, actually?
Can you believe they are SOCIALIZING?!!!
It’s the kids – the young people!
They just don’t get it!
FLATTEN THE CURVE!

Summer.
A new normal.
Life under COVID.
Breathing a bit easier.
No longer worrying about the virus on the groceries – or the mail.
Masks on faces everywhere.
Learning how to give home-haircuts.

My pants are getting tight, uh oh.
How do I try on new clothes under shutdown?
Look at this… 15 minutes 3 days a week.
If I can’t find time for that, I’m hopeless.
It’s hard and I hate every minute.
But I do it faithfully.
By the beginning of fall, eighteen pounds gone.
A new discipline and a fresh look at an old, nagging mindset.

Pop is nauseated – for days.
Something’s really wrong.
Mom drops him off at Emergency at 4:30am.
Alone at Kaiser, nearly two weeks.
Surgery, family Zoom calls, phone conferences with doctors.
Stage four cancer.
The tears start.
(They haven’t yet stopped.)

Slowing down even more.
Cancel the Wednesday Zoom group.
Joe says spend all the time you want with him.
Painting along side him in their bedroom,
while he dozes to the National Geographic channel.
Precious time.

11-11-2020 – 2:00am.
He is gone.
As good as death gets.
SO MUCH LOVE.
Present ’til the end, he blessed us in life,
and in the gentle way he left us.
A prince of a guy.
Luciano gives us the final word: vincerò.

Somewhere, somehow there is the energy for a 2021 calendar.
And a Zoom memorial to end all memorials.
FOUR – hours!
Then, our first holidays without him.
We make his enormous Zuppa da Pesce for Christmas Eve.
He is proud – I’m sure of it.

Whew! 2020 is over!
A new year – a new hope.
Not so fast!
Jeff Salzman says evolution is beautiful,
but it’s not always pretty.
Amidst the noise and chaos,
the beat goes on.

Vaccine – when can we get a vaccine?
Anxious, impatient, fatalistic.
Websites, signups, advice everywhere.
When can we paint together again – in person?
We are all so tired.
Tired of this.
Hope laced with exhaustion,
or is it exhaustion laced with hope?

Wait, stop! The traffic is back. Ugh.
Of course it had to, I suppose…
The slowdown brought mercies.
Can’t we go forward without losing them?

Another spring is here.
So much is starting up again.
But, something is different.
What happened to the whip I used
to make myself get stuff done?
Driving myself feels over with.
It feels so pre-pandemic.
It will all just have to happen as it does, I guess.
Please, please let this one mercy last.

I feel the pull to come out of hibernation.
Do more again.
Teach, write, sell art.
Reluctance lies right next to it.
I’m a happy homebody caring for my Joe and Bo.
Even the bookkeeping has become a solace.
You see, I don’t feel like I’m done being remade.
Not yet winged.
Can one even “do more” inside the chrysalis?

Hardship ushers renewal – if we look for it.
What has it brought?
Or, is it to soon to ask?
Nothing new really, just clarified.
Heart.
Love.
That’s it.
My beloveds, my home, my weekly groups, my family.
They have been my pandemic year.
They are my purpose.

Sounds trite.
Pollyanna, says the cynic.
Thanks for the feedback.
Now go away.
Or stay, and tell me what is hurting you so much.

As it turns out, this whole time I kept putting brush to paper.
There are paintings to show for it.
To share with you.

Here’s another pandemic revelation:
putting words together like this.
By this one-time-computer-scientist?
I mean, really?

This is who I am today,
near as I can tell.

Who are you now?

P.S.: I can’t help but wonder:
has everyone finally cooked and eaten their way
through the ALL that flour, pasta, rice and beans?