Bored, Hot and Lost in Thought: Quarantine Musings

Seven and a half months ago I gave birth to my daughter, Auden. Three months ago, a deadly infectious virus sent the world into a mad, physical distancing frenzy. Needless to say, it’s been an interesting time in my life – and in all of yours as well, I’m sure.
 
It’s been quite some time since I’ve reached out to share thoughts or new works or little ideas and tidbits of inspiration. This period has allowed me to reflect on several aspects of my life and art, and I hope that in sharing these reflections and new works, I can help spark some joy in your lives right now.
 
I had a bit of a revelation the other day thinking about a (the?) unifying theme in my work, whether it be water reflections, looking up at trees, waterlilies, birches, flower fields or sunsets/sunrises. All of these images resonate strongly with childhood. What if all I am doing is trying to get back to that feeling of wonder and freedom we all felt as kids interacting with nature? I remember gazing into the deep blue of a lake or a pond as the light jumped across the water. I remember lying on my back on the grass, looking up at trees or out into wildflower fields. I remember staring out over the abyss of the ocean as the sun set across the horizon, watching the water and the sky meld together. I remember being bored at times, and also amazed at times. Bored and hot and lost in thought in summer as frogs or flies skipped across the water. Bored but also filled with wonder. Time would slow down, and yet at the end of the day I wondered what had happened to all of that time. And I realize that there is nothing more wonderful or calming than watching the natural world around me sing, dance and occasionally, remain still.
 
This morning I watched my daughter pick up a roll of paper towels, fascinated by the texture, softness, patterns, bounce, and shape. This simple household item that so many of us never really think about managed to entertain her for forty-five minutes. I’m struck by her wonder at everything and everyone – she has a deep appreciation for even the most mundane things because it is all new to her. As I reflect on the beauty of this, particularly when framed in the context of the current global situation, I realize that we, too, can remind ourselves to return, every now and then, to this childlike state of unburdened wonder. So many of us right now are finding deep gratitude for family, friends, neighbors, and colleagues, realizing just how much we miss contact with others. We hope we will never take anything for granted again. Just as everything is ‘new’ for Auden, so many experiences will *hopefully feel ‘new’ to us when we emerge from this period.
 
Perhaps this time of uncertainty, forced separation and total elimination of so many events and happenings will help us all think about childhood. Perhaps it will help us remember the slow pace of life, the beauty of a lily pad or the changing colors of a tree, and give us an appreciation for the simple and quiet things that make life wonderful.
 
My Flower Fields Series (and others I will share in the coming weeks) is inspired by memories of childhood, looking out into fields or gardens and watching the colors and bees and the wind fly and flutter about. Perhaps today you will notice the flowers on your way to take out the trash, appreciate a sunset or sunrise just one day this week, or pause to look up at the trees above you as you take a walk. Perhaps you will feel unburdened, if only for a brief moment. And with each of these little moments, perhaps you will remember what it was like to be a child on a hot summer day when you had nothing to do but dip your toes in the water and watch the breeze lazily wave through the leaves.