Friday, Aug. 7, 2020
At the beginning of the Coronavirus Sequestering period, I issued a challenge for people to create an art piece that chronicled their experiences during this time. Go HERE to see that challenge.The idea was that we all started out with the same materials, then added what we wished to to come up with an art piece that chronicled these first stages of our isolation. Four friends accepted the challenge, but I’ve only received photos of their work from two. I’m going to be blogging their photos over the next two days, and if anyone else has photos to submit, please do so now. Below are the photos of my completed project. See if you can find the pieces in it that are some of the materials given to each artist.
(Please click on the first photo to enlarge it and read the story of my Covid Vacation. Clicking on the next arrow enlarges the next photo and gives more of the story.)
Today is the first day of big bright yellow butterfly season. I sat in my studio and tried to get shots of them darting around the tabachine bush, but they were too fast for my camera lens. Here’s one that didn’t get away, but a distant shot.
Morrie and Diego pulled their usual plaintive sit-in at the door of the studio. This time, I gave them each a dog biscuit, but didn’t let them in.
Another dog biscuit? No. Sorry, fellas.
I mended my Covid-19 art piece for the third time.
This is a depiction of Diego stealing one of the three and a half dozen freshly-baked cookies he managed to steal off the kitchen counter when I was distracted by the plumber. Over his head buzzes a bee–one of the colony of thousands that it took us weeks to remove and relocate from the lot next door so we could clear it. More to be heard about these bees and Diego a bit later.
The whole Covid scare and the resultant social isolation that lead to my creation of this memorial box just happened to coincide with rainbird season–that month-long infestation of cicacas that announces the coming of the rainy season. During this time, the air is filled with their loud choruses of clackings and whirrings.
The rest of the box is a collage of alone-time activities–music,
the constant news reports of possible cures, both real and bogus. As usual, Kukla jumping up on the newest addition to the box.
Time passing slowly for some, more quickly for me when I kept busy. The pages weighted down by the pastry are some miniature mock-ups of my next children’s book, finished during this period except for the final adjustments to the illustraions.
A bit of imbibing,
partially due to too many viewings of this guy. The Joker card was given to all of us. I miniaturized it and with the help of my friend Sharon, altered the face of the Joker.
The good, the bad and the ugly. All part of life’s crazy quilt.
My photography session over, we’ve all moved from the studio to the gazebo. I’m in the hammock and Diego is rolling around and growling on the grass. I’ve never been able to figure out what prompts this. Is it pure kidlike glee or a bee sting? If it is bee stings, he’s a slow learner because he’s been rolling in the grass and growling for years and yet he still tries to catch bees in his mouth every time they venture near, which is the second reason for the bees depicted in the Covid-19 memorial Retablo. Now it just needs a wooden frame and it is complete.
Tomorrow, a depiction of another piece from my Covid Challenge–that of my friend Candace’s piece. If anyone else accepted the challenge and has photos to send me, hurry hurry. Go HERE to see Candace’s answer to the challenge and HERE to see Jean Mulleneaux’s contribution.