2020-Ground Hogs Day
Shelter, Pod, Tarnished 48”x36”each acrylic on canvas
I don’t know why Grounds Hog Day was chosen to be used in the movie starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell about the endless start to the same day. For sure now though, I use the term Ground Hogs Day as a metaphor to indicate doing the same day over and over and over. And this particular year, I have used this metaphor whenever anyone asks how I am doing. I just realized I was doing this post on February 2. Hahaha. Happy Ground Hogs Day. Hopefully this movie will end soon!
But for now, my post for this week.
I am finally almost finished with a series of three large paintings I started about a year ago. As I am uncovering the strong connection between them, I find myself reflecting on where it all began. That would be at the start of the year 2020.
Isolation is not new for me. My world has always been built on a microcosm of what I imagined others had. This Covid lockdown lifestyle has not actually been entirely different than what I was used to. But the enormity of death, disease, financial ruin, gross inequities, grief, loss, and all the painful reminders of systemic racism, well, it has tipped isolation to a whole new level. This past year has been an enormous collective turning inward and grieving what we have all lost, however big or small, recent or long ago. It is definitely tangible. We seem to be stripping away all the “fluff” in our lives to expose what it is we essentially need. Emotionally and physically. For some that has been easier than for others. Last March was like just yanking the plug. Instant power outage. This halt on our normal way of being has exposed some beautiful parts as well as some painful realities.
This is the world these paintings were born into. I wasn’t exactly sure why I had the need to make this series of three paintings and why they have been so incredibly painstaking. I think I am starting to understand though. These paintings have been my talismans. I have worked and reworked each surface so carefully and diligently. It has just felt like the right thing to do. To take these seemingly insignificant worn and battered objects and assert their stately presence. It gives me hope that the vulnerable will be noticed. That the weary will stay strong. I don’t expect, when this work makes it way into the public eye that any of this personal journey will really matter. For now though, I am thankful I have had this task to come to every day.
As we tally the dead, try to mend some gaping wounds, hold on to any threads that are thrown our way, let’s weep for all the loss so that we can move forward with some hope intact. Because humanity thrives on hope and hope is built with fortitude.
Let’s continue our journeys. It’s important.