Musings on a period of isolation
This is my account of how spending a week in self-isolation due to having COVID-19 impacted my art practice. I am lucky to have only experienced cold-like symptoms but there has been a shift in my work during this time, making it important to document.
My symptoms were strongest in the first three days after testing positive, with constant sneezing, a runny nose and sore throat. I also woke through the night to extreme hunger, trying my best not to wake my flatmate as I raided the cupboards for something (anything, everything?!) to quell my hunger.
I then experienced loss of smell and taste, only noticing when I thought the ginger I was chopping was potato as I couldn’t smell it, before remembering that I had COVID - our brains like to trick us!
Spending a lot of time at home, I thought I would be able to wile away the hours painting but quickly realised attempting to work on my usual large pieces or stand at my easel would be too much in my fatigued state. Instead, I worked through my pile of works on paper, which serves as a sort of sketchbook practice, only allowing me to work quickly and on multiple pieces at once, just how I like it.
Even so, I tried to paint for half an hour and had to go straight to bed before I fell asleep at my desk.
Over the next few days, in between sleeping and resting, I would add simple brushstrokes to these works. What I also noticed was that I was working with bright colours again. While I have inhabited my homeland of dark blue for a few years, it was time to take a holiday to neonville.
It left me feeling playful, refreshed and free from expectations, like all good holidays should.
Throughout the rest of my isolation period, I sat and reflected on some previous artworks, really appreciating the tones in each piece and how they changed with the changing light throughout the day.
I think it’s important to review past work and I realised that I have struck the balance between setting the stage and allowing the painting to emerge in its own way. I respond to the landscape of the canvas in the same way I do the landscapes outdoors.
Whether it’s tucking my hair into my hat and scarf when the wind whips it in every direction or weighing up my next moves when there are lingering dark clouds, the way I approach art making is the same.
In both instances I take some steps forward, listen to my intuition and adjust if necessary, then continue taking more steps forward.