a non-profit gallery for the visual and performing arts |
2833-A Hathaway Rd., Richmond, VA 23225
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Flash Back
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"E" Collage
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How Memory appears on the Horizon
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The eons around us
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When the Night Comes
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The spell was cast
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Strata
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Not a Day Goes By
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Time Share
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Things may be the same things, but we have shifted. What do you do when you can't do what you have always done?
We were all hearing that this new flu was spreading like an oil spill around the world. It would reach us. And it did. And we hunkered down and stayed home and stayed away - from friends and family, work and stores.
People lost jobs. People hoarded toilet paper. People baked. People gardened. They cleaned out their closets and binge watched movies on demand. People played music and sang. People got sick. People died.
The days before we sheltered in place had an urgency. I bought evaporated milk and took paper and pens, colored pencils, brushes and watercolors, and a thick, pink journal from my studio. And not every day, but most days, I wrote. I wrote to remember what we ate, what we watched, who we saw. How we went to the store and learned how to make masks and danced around neighbors on our walks. Kids learned to ride bikes and drew on the sidewalks with chalk. All that did happen, and I considered what might happen, what could happen. All the parts of the day and the news of the world were bumping up against each other. Each a paragraph in a surreal narrative like the elements in the collages I have made using mages of the familiar - unmoored in space, in unexpected perspective, edges touching briefly, demanding connection.
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