Undiluted time in which to pursue painting.
No constraints such as having to go to work, look after children or even aged parents.Very few demands or obligations in my life to which I have to respond.
In former times I bemoaned the burden of these ties which I felt prevented me from my desire and vocation to create; follow my dreams of being ‘an artist’.
We humans are subject to such contrary, conflicting emotions.
Endless time paralyses, inhibits, restrains me from beginning.
How to express this trauma?
Life transformed into a terrifying crisis; time stretching endlessly.
A downward spiral of silence; of empty streets; of empty skies; of empty supermarket shelves; of sleepless nights; of nightmarish dreams coloured by anxiety….images of the endless repetitive TV news
‘STAY HOME – PROTECT THE NHS – SAVE LIVES’.
Blue-gowned, masked nurses;
rows of coffins.
Then the relief of wonderful heart-stopping images of small acts of generosity, kindness, heroism. The brief balm of clapping in the streets, surrounded by friends and strangers united in thanks and pride in those who are working to keep humanity going.
My artistic response should be deeper; more meaningful, but instead all I can achieve is a retreat into my comfort zone of looking at, then painting the sheer beauty of flowers .
I feel trapped, confined within the four boundaries of my garden. We are having to totally self-isolate. It feels so inadequate. Surely there is something more I could do. If only I was below that ominous number 70 I could volunteer for something.
I lurch between concentration and total absorption of this enjoyable activity and sudden overwhelming despair at thoughts of the future and even of the present.
One day it will become the past.
Until then all we can do is hold on and hope and perhaps find better ways to express in paint this momentous period of time.
