One of my favorite poems is "Signals" by Shel Silverstein:
When the light is green you go.
When the light is red you stop.
But what do you do
When the light turns blue
With orange and lavender spots?
It seems to happen a lot - when my dad died. . . when I couldn't get pregnant. . . when my husband was deployed to Bosnia for 11 months. . . The completely unexpected, very difficult, I really really don't want this to happen. . . happens. So, here we are. (again) Just recognizing and naming this coronavirus - not a staycation but yeah I'm at home - is helpful for me. It's helpful because the other difficult times passed and I got through them. Not particularly well - with my husband in Bosnia I gained 50 or 60 pounds - but I did get through them and I can lean on that. I can also learn and perhaps move forward with more grace.
I had intended to start blogging again in January but I was preparing to help lead a retreat in March and was very busy. Very, very busy until mid March when we cancelled the retreat and everything else got cancelled also. I was pretty tired at that point so it took several weeks before I caught up on my sleep. Now I have to make sure to exercise or my frustration and energy levels start to shoot up, up, up. . . and I think about painting my ceiling fan or other less positive ways to express myself. The ceiling fan - in my bedroom - has five blades so I could paint each a different color with perhaps some swirly details. . . I have mentioned, I know, that I am very good at making plans. I did discuss the ceiling fan project with my husband who said I should finish the painting that I started on the pantry door first. I don't disagree with him but I find new projects much more alluring than half finished ones. My husband does not understand this - he likes to finish projects - preferably on the same day that he starts them. I really should get back to the pantry door since it is in full view in the dining room. I like the painting thus far so we'll see. . .
So, art in the time of coronavirus. . . I hope to write about it once a week until I can write about art after the coronavirus. The pantry door - definitely a work in progress. I am too.