WE LIVE IN PRECARIOUS TIMES

I decided to share this image from a series that I did a few years ago. I was doing an inventory of my portfolio and realized how apropos this piece is in our current circumstances.  Certainly, we are living in precarious times. On the edge of an abyss of fear and anxiety, we mourn the lives we once lived and wonder what part of our old normal will ultimately survive. We perch on separate islands of existence tied together by our news and our electronic devices, frail bridges of communication connecting us to one another. While below us, a tide of events beyond our control erodes the foundation of our known world. 

Living alone in isolation, has cast us all ashore on our own separate little desert islands. No hugs, no handshakes, no help getting over the puddles, no slap on the back for a job well done, no dinners out with friends, no drinks and a good old chin-wag at the bar, no help in the kitchen, no cooking together, no trying out new recipes with friends, no shared studio time, and no in-house visitors of any kind … those are the rules we have come to live by. And even as we learn to adapt by having what my friend Kathy calls garage dinners …  eating take-out together sitting six feet apart in your friend’s garage … there remains a real void where human touch once lived. 

It is indeed a precarious and strange kind of existence that demonizes human contact. I mean, how is Prince Charming going to save me, if he can’t sweep me off my feet? Of course, the whole sweeping thing has become a bit problematic anyway, what with the arthritis in my hip, and the weight gain from anxiety eating. But still, the principal of the thing remains … 

Luckily, while I may not able to give anyone a hug, I am able to connect with friends and family through texts, emails, phone calls, and Zoom meetings. However, I am here to tell you that those Zooms that pop up on my desert island horizon are like mutant cacti. I know cacti are supposed to be plants, but in my heart of hearts I know that is some kind of botanical fabrication. Cacti are nothing at all like real plants, and Zooms are nothing at all like you and your friends really getting together. However, just as cactus are rumored to store water for desert travelers, so too do Zooms bring us a welcome respite from our thirst for contact. It might not give the kind of satisfaction that fresh water brings, but if that is all you have, then you take it, and enjoy it, and share it gladly. It might be frustrating, but there it is … a little trickle of humanity stretched miraculously between friends and family, to help keep your world in balance and a little less precarious.