Still Dreaming of Spring
Artist’s Note: Lockdown Location really inspired me to consider what the pandemic meant for me and what my life had been defined as for the last year. It’s been so easy to sink into the negativity in terms of mental well being and coursework, and of scary newspaper headlines, but I wanted to push towards thinking about getting better, feeling better, the revival that spring brings to mind. I wanted to transition between the isolation so commonly experienced in both mental health contexts and pandemic safety contexts, to the idea that we will find a way to overcome, that spring is in sight, and that we won’t have to be alone. In these unprecedented time… we’re still dreaming of spring.
I was in the lines circling the coffee mug, each one a reminder of the shadows under my eyes. I was 10% here and 90% halfway across the world because I missed the summer spent in the winding canals and glittering masks of Venice. I was somewhere in the mess of yellow sticky notes that covered my desk in forgotten reminders and half-thoughts. I was in the steps and doors that only creaked after 2am when I tiptoed around. I was in the scribbles on the calendar but you’d never have found me in the endless to-do lists because there were too many to count. I was reflected in the mirror, but my reflection looked different; thinner, sloppier, colder. I was in the bloody shards of ceramic and glass on the ground, remnants of memories of the past year I couldn’t put back together no matter how hard I tried. I was in the notes my fingers now stumbled over, music once ingrained in memory now lost to memory and time. I was in the laboratory on my computer but my procedure had been reduced to “tap the flask and press the start button.” Find me in the pixels of the screen, the equivalent of being everywhere and absolutely nowhere all at once.