I've been working on the same Christmas quilt (all by hand) for 2 years. It's very labor intensive, but it's the way my Grandma made her quilts so I wanted to do it the same way.
Because progress on the other quilt is so slow, I decided to switch gears and do a machine quilt to practice that technique. I ordered fabric online since I can't shop in person and have been experimenting.
I've also been making masks for our family so we have a supply. The blue fabric I ordered online. It is a custom Washington State themed fabric. Masks are scary. I wanted to try to make them more friendly with fun fabric.
The machine I'm using was given to me by my mother. She's been gone for 5 years and everytime I sit down to sew, I feel a connection with her. Times are stressful. Everyone could use their Momma right now...
My Little Library is really about two things to me: inspiring readers and building community. As a result of the quarantine, there has been a lot more foot traffic on my street-- more couples out walking in the evenings, dog walkers I’ve never seen before, families spending more time outside and strolling the sidewalks, and children out playing in their yards on my street being told they can ride their bikes "up to the Little Library then turn around."
Maintaining and visiting my library during the stay home order has been very rewarding for me. Book sharing with my neighbors brings me joy. None of the books that are in it at the moment were put there by me because they rotate so often right now, and I love the variety of strangeness that momentarily lives in there, like the red covered Engine 2 Diet Cookbook. Lately, a lot of interesting non-book things that keep neighbors occupied at home have appeared then disappeared from the library just as fast as the books—an unused Halloween werewolf makeup set, DIY tote bag, a feathery princess cape, a string of pearls, cursive workbooks, children’s card games, classical music cd’s, packs of seeds, and several puzzles.
Ultimately, as a teacher, I love the idea of promoting excitement about literacy to the kids in the neighborhood and having a way to connect people with books, especially now with libraries being closed, and having a meaningful way to build community as well as a reason to connect with me and to each other.
I love my Little Library now more than ever.
Jess would probably tell you that this time could best be defined by my increasingly unhealthy relationship with our toaster, which I now furtively visit multiple times daily; the result being that my pants no longer fit as they should, though perhaps I wouldn't want that recorded for posterity.
Rather I would say the chance to sit and enjoy the garden coming to life this last six weeks - the opportunity to work 8 hours a day at the kitchen table and watch the wisteria come into bloom has actually been a real treat. Or there's the front yard - perfect for social distancing - you can barely see us hiding behind the maple trees. So anywhere in the front or back, really, with or without the toaster. Also, Alex and I have been cycling a lot (in an attempt to combat that toast) so there could perhaps be a bike or two in there somewhere.
Alex got his bike last year for the Seattle to Vancouver ride. We signed up for it again this year and were just getting into some training when the virus struck. This year’s event has consequently been cancelled, but we’ve been continuing to ride nonetheless. I think last year we were about the same height, but he was lighter and somewhat faster. This year he’s considerably lighter, stronger, faster and - unless photographic evidence can perhaps prove otherwise - also maybe even just a bit taller.
My hat is a Nintendo DS hat, bought from their employee store when I was working on the design for their new Redmond Headquarters back in 2007/2008. I never really wore it much until this March as we all WFH (Work From Home). I like wearing it while out walking and about. I feel protected, really protected physically and emotionally with my hat on. Every few weeks with mask and hat on, I’d walk to the neighborhood convenience store (the Aloha Market run by a Vietnamese family) to get my 12 pack of Heineken. Out of habit, I’d continue to pay with cash ($20 bill each time) and get nervous with change that I received, which I have continued to keep in a plastic bowl in the garage.
My chair is a work chair from my dad. I have used the chair to reach higher spots to paint, to fix stuff, and to change light bulbs, etc. Never really sat in it until this March as we all WFH. Nowadays on many late afternoon/early evenings, I open my garage door, have my chair out in the driveway, drink my Heineken. with or without a Zoom happy hour.
We are holding pieces from “Oblique Strategies”, a boxed set of over 100 oracle cards meant to foster creativity. The adages on each card were created by musician Brian Eno and painter Peter Schmidt in 1975. Eno’s solo albums and his collaborations with David Bowie and Talking Heads were part of our soundtrack in the late 70’s and still are today.
We ordered the deck from Eno’s merch website on March 15, just as Healthcare officials were telling us we were in deep doo-doo. Our hope was that this set of flash cards could help stave off the inevitable boredom and ennui ahead. Simpletons are We!
On March 22, we went into lockdown. With all of the supply chain issues beginning to simmer, we thought we might not get our order in a month or so. But miraculously, “Oblique Strategies” arrived the next day.
Patreese’s card, the last in the deck, says “Gardening, not architecture.” Josh’s card says, “Where’s the edge? Where does the frame start?” In the portrait, we get to silently converse with the photographer, too.
During our last trip to L.A. we went to a tiny theater to watch Magic. I think some of the macabre vibe from that performance crept into this still life, below.
Pictured in the back are homemade sketchbooks filled by me during these fun times, mostly sketches in the neighborhood or along bike paths nearby. Front left is one of Patreese's dozens of homemade masks. On the right is her garden-gloved left hand. Under the glove is the back of the album cover of Eno's "Before and After Science" (1977). Peter Schmidt's artwork is featured, and “Oblique Strategies” is mentioned in the liner notes.
“10,000 Happy Thoughts and the Space Between” AKA “Happy” for short, is a drawing that is intended to serve as a meditation instrument. “Happy” is a meditation, both in the process of making (where for each time I spell out the letters H A P P Y, I reflect on a happy thought), and also in its living state where one can stare at the piece and reflect on their own “HAPPY” thoughts.
Rhythm and Repetition. Positive and Negative. Happy acts as visual representation of the fact that positive space, (or experiences), cannot possibly exist without some presence of negative space (or experiences). In fact, much like the human experience, it is the nuance between the positive and negative that brings life to the drawing.
My hope is that this piece can inspire its viewer to reflect on the nuanced beauty that happens between the positive and negative spaces in their daily lives.
The day Nixon resigned my brother and I were stopped at gunpoint by two angry cops for “going from place to place with no destination.” We were going home.
Destinations weren’t really allowed during the first months of quarantine, so “going from place to place with no destination” became the norm: short walks with our old dog, or longer ones with family or by myself. Wherever we wandered, we were heading home.
For a while, at home, I found myself using alcohol as relief from the catastrophe of so many deaths and so much chaos and buffoonery. Not smart, I know; but I wasn’t drinking alone. A wine-seller told me business boomed as people hoarded more than toilet paper and bleach.
Odd that the response of young people to a different and more horrific pandemic has brought relief, and inklings of new hope. It shows what leadership can do. They’re showing us a destination worth reaching.
I went to visit my friend Chloe right before the shutdown. She is a longtime career nanny, and so playtime always feels available when she is around. She had an extra hula hoop lying around from one of the kids she cares for, a child's hoop, and we started spinning together, several feet apart with our masks on.
All these memories came flooding back from my childhood: how much I loved hula hooping when I was a kid, how free I felt, and joyful. I felt like a child as I spun the hoop as an adult. I felt how wide I was smiling while I spun. So I just started hula hooping most every day.
It has evolved into more like dancing than simply spinning the hoop. I love moving with music, playing with slow and fast beats, my own little dance party. Spiral up and spiral down, I like the steady, pulsing rhythm you have to do or the hoop falls. The push from the ground through the feet to the whoosh of the pelvis. Grounding and consistent. It feels like a trance. And it feels like a massage, the constant pressure against my waist and hips. Round and round and round.
But mostly it's the feeling of making and being encircled in spirals, so fun and so familiar. It sets my mind at ease.
I have been postmating almost since the day I got back from school in March. Due to Covid I am required to wear a mask when coming in contact with people and I sanitize my hands between each interaction with customers. I mostly pick up food orders, but I have picked up a few orders from drug stores and pharmacies. This job gives me something to occupy my time during quarantine while making a decent amount of money, all things considered.
Even though my job expects me to essentially go out and break quarantine so others don’t have to, I don’t feel too much more at risk because of the sanitary precautions we have to take as couriers. Besides obtaining the food in the restaurant, it is pretty rare that I will come into contact with people because I usually just leave their food on the porch and ring the doorbell.
My Postmates credit card is an item I use every day I work and it helps make my job easier. It is prepaid so that I have a way to pay for food I pick up from restaurants. Then when the customer pays, they pay Postmates.
With my new job, I haven’t learned much more than navigational skills, as I have limited human interaction when on the job, but I am now able to navigate Seattle better than ever before. I am so glad that I was able to find a job during this pandemic as a way to stay occupied while making money!
My computer means a lot to me, because I can use it to communicate and play games with my friends during quarantine.
I built it myself, so I am able to to fix any problems I may have, and I know its capabilities when performing tasks. Building it myself also makes it feel more earned because I had to research the parts and devise a build that worked together and fit within my budget, and I had to figure out how to physically put it all together.
The Mask - It really has many layers for me. It is first a construction tool that we used as part of our daily, dusty work; suddenly we are hit by a pandemic, can’t get any, and are using homemade or medical masks instead. When Governor Inslee started Stage One and we legally returned to work on the Magnolia project, that first night someone wrote on the house with paint “stop work Trump Lovers” another place “FUCK YOU” and “Burn Baby Burn.” We were wearing masks and working within the State’s rules, but there is a big part of our community that feels the need to try and impose Covid Shaming on others that are not abiding by “their” set of rules. To me the mask is a key trigger point, those who wear them and those who don’t and some on both sides feel the need to try and shame the other side.
The Saw - to me the saw was emblematic of all our construction tools being quieted by the virus. On the Magnolia project, when we started up again it signaled to the neighbors that we are working and building. The City had been quiet and now that silence was being undone by the whizzing of a power tool ripping through lumber.
I built a plywood bike ramp for Jack to get him outdoors on his bike and off the bloody X-Box. The plywood was used as a temporary door from kitchen to garage on the Magnolia job, as the door company was shut down. I enjoyed repurposing it, and it makes me smile to remember that the virus, though terrible and frightening for so many, has helped families do things they normally would not have time or thought to do.
PS. I painted the door red, fuck you
When COVID first hit, we were all uncertain about how long these changes and disruptions in our lives would last. After two weeks of working from home, it was clear that we would be here for a while. I realized I needed to re-establish my morning routine in order to feel a sense of familiarity and normalcy. I did everything I previously did, in the order I previously did it. The last thing I would do before walking out the door to the bus is put on my shoes. That was the one change. I would now put on my slippers, sit down at the dining room table, and turn on my computer. My slippers keep my feet warm and comfortable during a very uncomfortable time. They created a constant for me. Their familiarity assured me that I am still “me” even though I find myself in this very strange, new world.
Despite this comfort, there was still a sense of uncertainty with my work and how I would remain connected with my colleagues. How would we have our conversations? Would we be as productive? Is this sustainable? Now after six months, it is normal to hold meetings through a screen, and our spatial backgrounds have become our constants for each other; we know what to expect when people turn on their camera. My background is my friend Ed’s painting that hangs in our dining room. Everyone in my company has now seen the painting, and it provides familiarity to my co-workers. Countless people have commented on how much they love it. I am sure that when Ed painted it, he never imagined that it would provide a comforting constant to my co-workers that assures them that this is Jill. She is the same person you knew before, despite this strange, new world.
These are some of my tools – brushes, sticks, wires, knives - anything I can use to move paint around. The shape of a brush is designed for a specific purpose, but I use my tools in whatever way will get the results I want.
I love buying brushes. There are 59¢ Chinese brushes from the hardware store, $75 handmade squirrel hair brushes for watercolor, rubber scrapers from Daiso, and stubs of brushes I used at 8 years old. It’s important to take care of your tools. Sometimes I think I spend more time cleaning and conditioning brushes than I spend painting.
Recent days have been similar to my norm. My work hasn’t changed. But I’ve been remotely coaching a friend, a scenic artist, helping her develop an abstract style. She and I have also collaborated on paintings for the USPS Art Project, an on-line artist-organized event created to bring awareness to the importance of the Post Office.
Painting is something I have done my whole life. It’s not mysterious, magical or sacred. There’s no meaning or message in what I produce. I paint because I paint, and I like to share it. I like showing people my studio, and was glad Kirk asked to photograph me here, the place I go to work.
Skateboarding has become a new hobby of mine that I picked up during my first term at college. My two best friends had skateboards and they taught me how to ride. When I was finally confident enough in my abilities, we went out and I bought one of my own. Back at school, my friends and I would skateboard a lot on campus because the University has lots of paved paths that are easy to skate on. One of our favorite things to do was to skate across campus to our favorite boba shop late at night.
For me, skating during the pandemic simply reminds of the good times I had back at school, good times that were abruptly and unexpectedly taken away. When I’m feeling sad or alone or I miss my college friends, I like to skate around my neighborhood because it brings back all the happy feelings I had when I was at school.
I like the physical feeling of writing to plan what I hope to get done each day. I’ve always written in multiple pen and highlighter colors, which helps me remember things without looking back at them. I choose the color based on what the task feels like to me, which pen seems most appealing, and which colors I’ve already used and whether I want the new task to contrast to or blend in with others. I also highlight and star things to further draw my attention to them. It becomes a swirl of colors quickly and probably looks ridiculous, but it doesn’t bother me. I also like the feeling of crossing something off when I’m done with it.
On March 17th I started writing the global Covid-19 case count from the Johns Hopkins University tracker when I would log on in the morning. On April 1st I started writing the case count when I logged on and again before I logged off. On April 10th I started writing down the global and US case count in the mornings and evenings. In May I included the case count in Senegal because I was working closely with colleagues there. On June 9th I started writing only the morning global and US case count and have continued doing that. I’m not sure why, other than habit. The only color I’m consistent with is that I use black ink for the case counts, not to be morbid, but it feels appropriate.
I started collecting the bottles just after we got back from London last summer. I don’t really know why I started collecting them; I think I just thought they looked cool so I held on to them and never stopped holding on to them. I keep them displayed on a little shelf by my desk. During the quarantine I guess they give me something to do beyond video games.
When I was little, my mom taught my five sisters and me how to sew our own clothes. It was a way to save money and make things that nobody else had. With Covid and the scarcity of PPE early on in the pandemic, I turned to sewing as a way to make something that unfortunately nobody had - protective face masks. At first, I made them for my elderly neighbors and essential worker friends. I then joined with neighbors I didn’t even know, to sew masks for the 100 workers at our local grocery store. I made them for strangers and others also volunteering to distribute laptops to Seattle Public School students. I’ve now found a style I prefer and have made masks for my family for each day of the week, all with materials I already had at home.
Kirk took the pictures of me standing in the doorway of my studio where I teach my after school design classes - Blue Turtles Swimming. With the shutdown, the last two workshops of winter quarter were cancelled, and spring quarter workshops were cancelled altogether. With King County entering into Phase 2 of the WA State’s plan for reopening, in July I was able to complete the last two workshops - masks on, distanced, outdoors and with supplies being packaged for those who were only able to join us remotely through Zoom. The kids are begging for me to continue the workshops in the Fall. I need to start planning how that can happen in this new masked, distanced world.
Before the global pandemic, I had worked from home sporadically. Now, consistently working from home provided newfound flexibility in work hours, but other challenges quickly arose. My mental health was rapidly declining, so I began to search for ways to prioritize creative outlets. Sewing has always been a passion. Because my sewing desk became my work desk, I sought a non-space restrictive activity in our one-bedroom apartment. Pre-pandemic, my friend and I started a lunch club at work for water coloring, so I had the necessary supplies.
Because I tend to be a perfectionist and I never formally learned how to watercolor, this hobby was challenging for me. I began to search for resources to learn. I started following a woman on Instagram who creates amazing architectural sketches and paintings. She shared a new series that resonated with me: sketching her way through her teacup collection. It isn't that exciting but that was the point: don’t fret over finding the perfect thing to paint, just put brush to paper.
To get inspired, I looked around the apartment and decided to document the space where we spend all of our time. I also flipped through old photos and began painting scenes from our pre-pandemic vacation to Greece.
At first I was frustrated that my skills weren’t progressing, but I have tried to remember that the process is more important than the product.
My object is my PRS guitar. Though this guitar is not my first nor my last, it will always be a special one to me. With this guitar we recently recorded our first EP. It came with me to London Bridge Studios where we recorded our most recent singles. Most notably, I played it on stage at The Moore Theatre. After that show we were placed under quarantine, which really made things slow down. As a band we were not able to practice or see each other face to face, so it forced all of us to think in alternative ways. We made a cover video of the song “Backfoot” by Dinosaur Pile-up and posted it on Instagram. To create it we sent tracks of songs back and forth as ideas, and then as final takes.
This guitar has been to a lot of places, played all over, and it’s very special to me.
When I first emptied these boxes (maybe a week after Grandpa's funeral) I had all 16 cars out on the dining table. They were so beautiful. I didn't want to put them back in those deteriorating boxes. My roommate is very clutter-averse, but the holidays were approaching so I was able to win her over by only displaying 4 (I started with 5) on the sill with tiny string lights. I think she just let me have this one, because they're still out there. Seeing these trains everyday while I'm cooking is a sweet little reminder of Grandpa’s presence in my life.
Grandpa was gifted a train set when he was little, from his dad (Pupa). He grew up in Brooklyn during the Great Depression, and coming from a working class family (older sisters worked to put him through school), receiving such a 'state of the art' gift meant the world to him. He always cherished those trains, and my dad says he feels like he inherited a similar enchantment.
The spirit of those trains made it to me through my dad, from watching Westerns with him, as well as references via Americana & Blues music we've shared over the years. Both have definitely contributed to my romanticized view of heavy industry. His background in engineering, mine in architecture, created a shared interest in built things. When we were kids I remember him taking us to train museums, air & space museums, etc. I remember him telling us that as a kid he wanted to grow up to be a hobo, and in another life, I could easily picture him living a life on the rails.
This quarantine "strange trip" has been a strange gift. Before this global pause, time was this elusive "thing" that, as I get older, seems exceedingly difficult to find. But suddenly, time has been essentially given to us. Now I have time to pontificate about the importance of trains in my life.
Soccer has been my fun activity over quarantine. I have practices with my team online through Zoom meetings. The meetings are a fun place to hang out with my friends and also practice. I’ve always loved soccer and it’s always been so exciting for me to play. Also over quarantine I’ve been playing on my Xbox a lot. Xbox helps with socializing with friends that I don’t get to see at soccer practice. I’ve also been doing little workouts and going on runs and practicing juggling to stay in shape. Quarantine has made it hard to connect with friends, but I’ve made the best of it.
My main object is my meditation cushion, which for me represents my meditation practice and the Buddhist studies I've been doing for some time now. Having that practice has been totally essential during this time, and I have immense gratitude for the path that led me to have the teacher I have and my spiritual community or "Sangha". And then especially with Ursula - when I knew her time was coming soon I used my practice to gather the courage to say goodbye and to try to have strength. Buddhism teaches us about the impermanence of all things, and urges us to not cling or grasp. As George Harrison would say "all things must pass".
When we first went into quarantine, I was joking with people that this "better not screw up Ursula's 21st birthday". Well, deep down I knew my time with her was definitely short, and I was just hoping we'd get through it without having to say goodbye under these circumstances.
She was my touchstone in a furry being way that my meditation practice has been in a keeping me sane kinda way.
I have been playing NBA 2K on this TV through the Xbox. I use it to pass the time whenever I am bored. The screen is how I play all the games on the console, and without it the console is useless. It’s in the basement, so that is where I go to be by myself and have some alone time for a little while. I use it often so that’s why I wanted to choose the TV instead of an Xbox controller.
My notebook is important to me because of the different ways I use it to keep track of the scores and statistics that are happening in the virtual world of the Xbox. It helps me remember certain things that I wouldn't normally remember, like win/loss standings and player analytics. All the games that are being played within this virtual basketball world are kept within the notebook. It is another way I can pass the time of quarantine by playing these games and having fun.
I still remember the smell of my grandfather's garage.
Grease, used motor oil, gasoline, and cherry flavored tobacco (he smoked a pipe). Above his oil-soaked workbench were hundreds of rusty tools. Well, maybe not hundreds, but as a kid it seemed like it. I'd spend hours in there, taking apart things to see how they worked. He would give me a broken radio, an old typewriter, or anything with lots of small parts. I guess this is why I love machines.
My first car was a 1972 Toyota Celica. Of course, the first thing I did was start to take it apart. Thinking back, I don't think there was a single bolt I didn't ratchet off at some point. It was my baby. Before moving to Seattle I had to sell it. That was a sad day.
I always wanted another Celica. They are getting hard to find, especially one with the ultra-rare 18R-G racing engine. Somehow, I found one last year.
Working on the Celica reminds me of those days as a kid in my grandfather's garage. I still use his old 1/2" ratchet, which he gave me when I was 16. Everything about this car makes me feel youthful, grateful, and happy.
My objects are disk brake rotors from my 1974 Alfa Romeo GTV. I have owned this car for about 20 years and as you can imagine I've grown attached to it, for many reasons, including it's styling, engineering, performance and history. And yes, it has a name, made popular by my kids..."Guilia."
Guilia has seen many years on the road, but over the past several has been in a state of self-imposed restoration. Maintaining and restoring this machine has brought just as much joy as driving. Working from home due to the pandemic had afforded me an enjoyable opportunity and distraction to be able to "duck-out" more often into the garage and get lost in this frivolous endeavour.
She has brought me lots of smiles over the years, but if I'm honest, my two objects that have brought the most joy during this period of isolation have been Leza and Gabriel...my number 2 and 3.
During this pandemic, sometimes I was feeling bored doing school work, so I found a couple of ways to burn off steam around the house with objects I haven’t used in some time.
One is skateboarding. I like it because it’s thrilling and it’s something Jack and I can both do together. I started out barely able to turn or ride down hills, but now I’m doing those things and going off curbs too. Apart from some falls, I love the excitement and it’s now my favorite thing to do outside. I really surprised myself with my skateboarding ability and overcoming the fear I had of it.
My other new favorite activity is playing the ukulele because it makes a pretty sound, I can play it everywhere, and I love playing it around other people. There are a lot of great lessons for the uke on YouTube for all levels of skill and interest. That made it really easy for me to learn and get ideas. I always have music in my head, so playing the uke is a fun way for me to express myself.
My stack of implements - tools that I carry around with me almost anywhere I go - are at the ready for gathering information, selecting and purchasing materials and documenting my design. The concentration of my obligations during the pandemic has reached an all time high: kids at home, a remodel project in the works, an impending move, a second remodel - substantial alteration of our house, and my day job keep me occupied in our dining room, a.k.a. "air traffic control.”
Weekdays, weekends, mornings, evenings run together; stacks of paper, drawings, pencils, file folders do the same. Check-in’s with teachers and help with turning in school work shift to an endless list of materials to be ordered with my loyal laptop, while my trusty tape measure assists in window sizing & built-in design, the pencil and paper allow me to sketch it out - to make sure a detail is right, and the very smart little phone takes photographic notes on job sites and collects images of furniture, light fixtures, hardware, flooring and tile, all pending choices for the projects.
My stack keeps me working, while sunshine, outdoor wine socials, Zoom friends, good food, meditation, small successes and quiet family time keep me living.
This book is a great representation of what I care about most in this world...the environment. Reading this book (and others like it) has helped me to structure my quarantine into a productive time. I am constantly thinking about what I can do to abate my carbon footprint, looking at my home and what I use on a daily basis...food, my beauty and hygiene routine, consumption of single use plastics, and rerouting recurring purchases towards ethical and sustainable brands.
Stubborn optimism is one of the three mindsets discussed in the book. Amidst a pandemic and a corrupt justice system, and climate change showing its wrath through extreme weather, acidification of the oceans, over 200 species going extinct every day, and much more...our minds try and convince us to shrink in the face of a challenge that we cannot solve on our own. The good news is that we are not helpless, and having that optimism is mandatory in making the change.
Covid-19 first spread at a food market in Wuhan, China. Americans may like to judge the way those animals are sold as many are wild and the conditions of slaughter are not pleasant. However, the factory farm industry in America isn't any better, we just do it behind closed doors.
The moral of my quarantine story is that I am manifesting the world I want to live in. I urge you to think about the world you want for your kids, grandkids and so on, and actively pursue that world. We are a planet full of intelligent, empathetic, curious, passionate minds. I hope we can use our power to maintain and continue to share this beautiful, floating space rock. Be the voice for the voiceless.
I've played a ton of golf in my life. This season was way different.
Quarantine meant using the small yard to practice. A hitting net was added to the lock down shopping list with other nice-to-haves, like a trampoline, and bike parts for the kids. Used laptops, and upgraded wi-fi. Anything to make the new normal tolerable.
For whatever reason golf was one of the first activities to open. Twosomes only, masks in the pro shop, and no hanging around before or after your round. It was actually great -- no fuss golf. Golf for players.
I joined a men's club. I started tracking my handicap again. I committed to 18 holes each weekend, and 9 during the week. I played with my kid on Thursdays, and kicked up Friday night happy hour at the par three course. I was playing all the time.
I'd be out early in the fog, hoodie up, hands in pockets, bag on my back. A links jedi. Then it's summer, and I kept playing, and going to the range, and working on the game in the yard.
One Saturday in August I walked-on at my regular course, but it was packed so I had to wait to play. Practiced for an hour: driving range, chipping green, putting green. Shot a career best and broke a 24 year old record. And I could have gone lower.
It's a solitary game, and it's a lonely time, but that score I shared with everyone.
The morning I heard the Library was to close I panicked and rushed down to Columbia City to get books. Already the aisles were full of parents and children carrying precarious stacks. It was early March, rainy, the perfect time to settle at home.
So while everyone was quarantined I travelled…to Scotland and the west coast of Africa on a middle aged Englishman’s futile quest to join the action of WWI; to a pacific island with castaways under the watchful eye of the mysterious Captain Nemo; to a mansion and secluded garden paradise in Greenwich village, home to the dark melodrama of an Indian Don Corleone and his three sons. Over lunch in the garden, while spring warmed to summer I took the train from Paris to Biarritz with a failing Jewish tycoon; strolled through the town of Loch Dubh in the Scottish Highlands following a grisly trail of murder, intrigue and strange country folk; and tramped on foot across Eastern Europe with a captivating young polymath exploring palaces and backroads alike on the eve of WWII.
Taking a break from re-building my porch, sun blazing, I travelled back to New York, to the sixties and Vietnam, protests, the Russians, the death of Dr. King and the daily struggles and joys of an immigrant mother and her daughter on beautiful Riverside Drive…and as my mind roved and I read in place, the world around me changed.
Life in the age of Covid-19 has heightened my awareness of sound. The absence of cars on the road has revealed the sounds of birdsong, of leaves rustling in the wind, of the occasional airplane in the sky.
Working from home, it became difficult to focus within the symphony of sounds all around -- children’s school zoom calls, Sidonie’s stereo, neighbors weedwacker, sounds of food preparation. For a while in the slow, early days of quarantine, I enjoyed the sounds -- I imagined their source and appreciated the time to let them enter my mind. Later, I wanted to escape the noise and focus on my inner visions. I found refuge in my Bang and Olufson H8i noise cancelling headphones.
Inside the headphones, the subtle nuances and detail within the music of U2’s Joshua Tree, the MTV Unplugged album by Nirvana, and other favorite tracks keep my sanity and bring delight as I ride through quarantine inside my own personal universe of sound.
School feels like it's gotten more relaxed and independent. I don't have the equipment to do wrestling at home, but it has made me find different ways to exercise compared to having a school gym. The game I showed was League of Legends; I've been playing it since 6th grade. It's in the genre known as MOBA, a Multiplayer Online Battle Arena; in the game you're put on a team of 5 and you each select a character, you then play against another team, trying to destroy their base, each character and player is meant to fit a unique role in the game.
I’ve been doing magic tricks for a little over a year, starting with everyday things, like paper and pencils and coins. Last Christmas, I went to my grandparent’s house and found a deck of cards and tried to do a card trick. Ever since then, I have been studying the more difficult style of magic (in my opinion) - card magic. Since the shut down I’ve been able to learn more tricks and study harder. Now I have the time, so I practice at least 2 hours a day watching instructional videos, reading books, performing for my family, and practicing in front of the mirror. I have a list of about 30 tricks written in my sketchbook. Some I have made up myself.
I like magic because it is the greatest feeling to have someone smile, freak out, be impressed, and be fooled by my magic. I enjoy the challenge of being creative, being a critical thinker and choosing one of countless sleight of hand moves to achieve the outcome of a trick. After getting introduced to the world of card magic I was frequently amazed by the very cool playing cards that were higher quality than the standard bicycle cards. These cards had smoother edges, smoother faces, embossed tuck boxes, and beautiful designs that catch the eye. I have now collected twelve decks, most acquired during the shutdown.
Kirk took a picture of me doing The Spring which took me about two months to do successfully. I’ve learned numerous sleight of hand moves, multiple shuffle styles, and many different ways to cut a deck. One of the things I’m working on now is a move that I don’t want to give away.
Magicians never reveal their secrets.
Over the last few months I have been experimenting a lot with my pressure cooker (instant pot) with lots of success, and plenty of fails. I have found, however, instant pot will make the best homemade chicken broth with the least amount of effort.
Pajamas and sweatshirt have been my new business attire. Though now it is summer, shorts and a t-shirt have taken their place. You don’t see it here, but close-ups would show my black (business attire) sweatshirt covered in cat hair.
Ever present, it seems these days, are my headphones for Zoom or Teams meetings which seem to happen hourly, if not more.
My image below shows the beginnings of an amazing instant pot chicken chili verde.
Since I, like most folks, am spending almost all my time in my house, I am constantly confronted/reminded of all the projects it needs. Prior to this time, I’d come home from work, look at the house, and just say “I’ll do it later.” There was always something else to do. Now, there’s more time, or I’ve made time...
We had been renovating this house prior to even moving into it. I’ve done a little bit of the work, but hiring out a lot of it. Now, being at home, I find myself more available to tackle projects and enjoying it. I spend all day designing and drawing things for others to build at some later date. There’s no immediacy. Now, I think of something I want to do at the house, make a quick sketch, diagram or what-have-you, and then I do it. I’ve been working a lot with my table saw. I spent much time in architecture school in the wood shop building things with a table saw. For some reason I’ve liked working with a table saw and figuring out all the things you can build with it. There’s a lot you can do with it, and it multiplies when you combine it with a chop saw and a router table.
I’ve been building more cubes. Something I started in school, re-started after I bought my first house in Seattle, and continue still. These little utilitarian 15” cubes, open on two sides, are incredibly useful. Bookcase, side table, stacked for more shelving, etc. My daughter wanted some, and you’ll do anything for your kids, right?
This little exercise has spurred me to tackle more projects in the house. Electrical, framing, finishing, the list goes on and on, and on. So, the pandemic has allowed me to reconnect with an early love: a table saw. And get me excited again about building more things with my hands.
I have spent much of my time in quarantine protesting for racial justice and for SPD to be defunded. In 2019, the City of Seattle’s education budget was $105 million and their police budget was $409 million. More money needs to be put into communities, not into militarized police.
Participating in these protests has taught me so much. I have made friends and made art and hopefully been part of a larger piece of history. I wouldn’t spend my quarantine any other way.
As you can see in my photograph a lot of those books are new, as I have read them during the pandemic. I am reading a lot more than I used to because I don’t have to go to school, so I have more time. I still read a lot before the pandemic, but they came from the library. I am glad I have more time to read, and these pandemic books are some of the best books I have ever read! Because of “Clap When You Land” I learned of other fantastic Elizabeth Acevedo books. Like poet-x and with the fire on high. In the time since you took your photo I have read 6-7 more books, and right now I have like 4 books on my desk ready for me to read. Also, I have been reading books on my Kindle which I can't count because of how easy it is to read one and return it without a second thought.
One of my favorite books was “I Wish You the Best.” It is this book about a 17 year-old kid who comes out to their parents as non-binary and is kicked out and has to live with a sister they haven’t seen in over 10 years. They learn to be better without their parents. It's so sad, but also in the end, heartwarming. The reason I love the book in the photo was that it is written in verse form and you can tell this author is a poet because each and every line is so descriptive and detailed. It was like the narrator poured their heart and soul into the book. This is what I have been doing over this pandemic.
Ravenna has a local wine store that I help keep in business. We had visited it on occasion, to buy a special bottle for a birthday or to try a couple new wines. But at the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic and the initial lock-down, it was deemed an 'essential business,' and I was in total agreement.
I'd been working for a few months in a new position with a new company for the first time in two decades. The workload was already daunting, when all of a sudden I had both kids home from school - for who knew how long - as well as my husband working from home for the first time, a kitchen remodel, and a 115-lb German Shepherd who loved having me home.
A glass of wine or two became the norm with dinner, and we quickly went through the few bottles we had on-hand. Then we visited the store and stocked up. When we found out they did curb-side pick-up, it was a little too easy. But I looked at it as supporting a local business and the neighborhood economy, and as a way to get through my increasing work stress.
Now that we're pretty far into things, and this 'new normal' is, well, feeling normal, the consumption has subsided to be more occasional than necessary.
But thank goodness for the wine store.
The wrecking bar is an indispensable implement of destruction…and improvement.
Since purchasing our first house here in Seattle last fall I have been working through a lot of latent desire to build things and, for now, almost all that building begins with deconstruction or demolition. Thankfully, my wife has been both patient and appreciative as I tear pieces of our home apart and re-construct them anew. The house was originally built in 1916 and the previous owners lived here for over 60 years so, to date, there remains an ample supply of project material.
As a teenager I spent much of my summers working in various construction jobs alongside my grandfather, uncles, and others – learning about the trades while repairing, remodeling, gutting, and rebuilding rental property. My interest and experience in various types of construction work continued through college and beyond but, over the last 8 years of urban apartment living in Shanghai, China and Seattle’s Capitol Hill Neighborhood, opportunities to engage in large-scale physical building had been extremely limited.
Now, in our new-old home and a historically unique period of compulsory confinement, I have been spending a lot of time with wrecking bar in hand. It’s such a simple tool but the weight and proportions provide a powerfully focused force of leverage - cleanly cleaving fasteners and materials from one another. As I peel away the layers of our house, I am reminded of past life chapters while preparing for the new.
Instead of listening to music on the phone during my workout, I now Zoom into conference calls with the camera off and work out on the station bike at the same time. For sure, my colleagues would notice that when I tried to catch my breath and talk at the call! In the past, I couldn't take any Zoom calls while working out in the office building's gym room, as most of my discussions contain sensitive and confidential information. To me, exercising and working in a private and safe environment is a nice add-on during the quarantine.
At the beginning of the quarantine period, I felt like I was saving time from not commuting to work, no school drop-offs/pick-ups, nor kids' after-school activities. I could use the time on my other projects like sewing and drawing again. Besides work and exercises, I now spend most of my spare time preparing meals, since we can't dine out at restaurants or order take-outs that often. I spend more time strategizing my grocery shopping list and taking house food inventory to minimize the trips and exposure to other people. I get stressed out from doing all of that, in addition to worrying about the kids having too much spare time on gaming and streaming, the country not reacting to the pandemic quickly enough, and the uncertainty of the economy.
I think I have developed cabin fever already and need a staycation!
When I feel a soft little nudge on my ankle, I know Sturgill is asking for Love and attention. I get down on the floor and look deep into his eyes, recognizing his heart and soul. He responds to my presence by staring back into my eyes with trust and leaning into my body for snuggles. In these moments of connection, my mind goes completely quiet and my awareness is brought to Love. Each time is as profound as the last.
There is such power in being fully present to Love. This has been the ultimate healing for me during the chaos of COVID. I wish for everyone to find that for themselves - to find the thing that quiets your mind and fills your being with the healing energy of Love.
What my Juicer has meant to me during this time of Global Pandemic? Suffice to say that my alcoholic consumption has increased since the pandemic began. But also, I’ve grown quite fond of my morning grapefruit juice with Ashwagandha root.
Fundamentally, tools that I use the most frequently, I value the most. I used to make smoothies each morning and so my blender was my favorite tool for many years, but like Forrest Gump (who ran for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days, and 16 hours), at some point you are just done.
Brenda gave me this juicer as a gift to assist with her 2nd favorite of my labors, making Friday evening cocktails. Now I realize that in the face of a Global health crisis this seems a bit shallow (and it is), but when confronted with work-from-home / stay-at-home for months, the list of distractions is quite short.
And so I gaze longingly at my juicer and think of the hour when I will step away from the laptop and the constant Zoom meetings and squeeze juice into a shot glass…
I (Alissa) chose to hold the cookbook because I like baking. I like baking because it is fun and also I like eating the things I make :). I like baking with my mom because she is really good at it. I chose to hold my phone because I like that I am able to text and call my friends and grandparents. I also chose my phone because I can play games on it and use it when I’m bored.
My phone is important to me because I (Cameron) can talk to my friends on it. Talking to my friends is something I like to do because if i can’t see them then I can text or call them. I held the bowl and spoon because I enjoy baking. It keeps me busy when I don’t have anything to do. Another thing I love about baking is that I eat what I make. When I bake I like to do it with my mom because she is so good at it.
My object is my Xbox. Through these isolation periods it has really been hard to stay connected with my friends. Logging on every night with a chance to talk to someone who isn’t my family has allowed me to still feel connected.
Whether playing NBA 2K or Call of Duty, it has given me the chance to interact, even if it isn’t in person.
I learned to knit from my mother and her mother, which connects me to family and memories. I started knitting again as an adult about 10 years ago because I liked the idea of being creative and artistic and getting something useful at the end of the process. Knitting has a discrete, project-based nature: I can leave the project behind if it fails to engage me or I can take the object apart and create something completely different.
Knitting is very Zen for me - meditative and philosophical. Knitting engages my body and my mind at the same time. If I’m making a basic sock or hat, enough of my mind is free to absorb a tv show or a movie. If I’m working on a more complicated pattern, I have to concentrate to communicate what I’m reading on the pattern to what my fingers are doing – it’s like playing music or dancing because the kinetic sense has to engage with your mind.
In this time and space of a physical health crisis, a civic health crisis, and a moral crisis as I engage with my white privilege, knitting helps me reflect. The physical act of knitting soothes and smooths my anxiety so I can make thoughtful and deliberate choices about who I want to be as a person.
I have knitted six hats, six pairs of socks, a pair of baby booties, two lace scarves, and half a dozen washcloths. I have started creating my own Fair Isle and color-works patterns. It’s been fun. I know enough now to be able to envision a pattern based on the yarn that I have and create it for myself. I will never be able to draw or write music, may never write a play or paint a picture, but I can make unique wearable art with yarn.
As a person born with hearing loss, I'm already isolated from the world and I have had to learn how to undo the isolation hearing loss has given me. Throughout my life I have been given devices and tools that help me interact with others and not be so alone.
The device in my hand is one of the few devices that has helped me. For the longest time music and audio has been one of my greatest challenges, and I was never able to experience nor understand it fully. Then one day when I got the Roger Pen and learned what it could do. Eventually I was able to overcome an obstacle in my life and the Roger Pen stands as a trophy for overcoming it. Now in quarantine the Roger Pen has been something that I can rely on to connect to music and destress from the craziness this world is currently going through.
The garden is my sanctuary. I love the physical work of it, the smell of freshly turned soil, the smell of rain on that soil and the newly sprouting greens of recently planted seeds. This place allows me to think differently, escaping urban life, if just for a bit. How can I best nurture these young plants to eventually bring nutrition, or simply joy to me, my friends, and my family?
The tools that I use are the simplest of objects, hundreds of thousands of years old, but they are still highly effective and allow me to engage the earth. Comparatively my hat is utterly temporary. It was my favorite hat some 20 years ago, representing me with my team’s logo. But got “old” and other newer favorites came along, so this hat became my “work” hat. No less important to keep the blistering Seattle sun off my face and to keep the sweat from running into my eyes. This hat has faded from a dark blue to almost white, showing years of toil, layers of dried sweat that have been washed away only to be realized again and again. I hope it lasts forever.
One of our favorite Christmas gifts of 2018 was a collection of small cocktail recipe books from our friend, Tina. Each book showcases cocktails made from a different liquor. Since the start of the quarantine and seeing all of my patients over the computer all day, I find myself exhausted by the time 5 o'clock rolls around, and even more desirous than usual of a cocktail. I decided this would be a great opportunity to explore a few new recipes from the Tina books.
I happened upon the Corpse Reviver #2, a pre-Prohibition drink that I had never heard of. Equal parts gin, Cocchi Americano, Cointreau, and lemon juice (I leave out the dash of absinthe), it has become my new cocktail fave!
My object is my trampoline basketball. I chose this because it has been something I use almost everyday, especially during the pandemic. Playing on the trampoline is fun and it is something to do outside for exercise. I can do this whenever I want, for as long as I want, and it gives me a way to burn energy when I am bored.
I play basketball on the trampoline with my brother and we throw alley oops to each other...and my dad throws us football passes and we jump up to catch them. I have also played real basketball with my friend that lives near me.
All of this has helped me get through quarantine more easily.
For me, this time has been characterized by screens (and our dog, Otis). My screen time has certainly increased since the beginning of this year—and I had already spent a fair amount of time on my phone. Given that this is the only way we can connect with colleagues, friends and family, and that the lines between work and home are non-existent, I find myself on my devices now more than ever.
While it's nice to connect with others during this time, I'm looking forward to spending my time with people in person.
I wanted to read something a little depressing because it reminds me that, while things are bleak right now, I am doing ok and am fortunate for that. Jane Eyre was an orphan who grew up in an unloving home and was deprived of simple comforts that many of us take for granted. So I read this book and feel fortunate that I have a comfortable home, a job, and family and friends who support me.
Strange, uncertain times like these may bring intense emotions that are hard to let out. You want to keep everything in so you don't go crazy and let everything out at once. Reading books and watching movies can help focus that emotion. This pandemic is a good opportunity to slow down and reflect on the good and the bad in life and books have helped me do that.
The cover is called a 'Portrait of a Young Woman' by Vihelm Hammershoi. It is actually a portrait of his sister. The book recounts Jane's life from age 10 to when she turns 18 and becomes a governess and falls in love, so it is a sort of coming-of-age story which is why I assume they chose to have a young girl on the cover.
I am only 1/3 of the way through the book, and Jane is at an all girls school for orphans, so maybe a happy ending is coming!
My object is my football. I chose it because during the quarantine it has helped keep me from getting bored. Also it has helped get my dad and me outside, and to the park more often.
Before quarantine, my parents would always tell me to put down my phone. That was also when I was able to see my friends every day, and couldn't even imagine there would be a time where I couldn't interact with them face to face. I was on my phone a lot more when quarantine started, always communicating with my friends and going on social media. Tiktok is one social media platform that my generation seems to be obsessed with, especially during the shutdown. Tiktok was originally just a fun place where I would watch funny videos or get creative ideas, but it has become a place where I’m able to connect with my generation and feel inspired by the amount of political power we have and the real impacts we have made, and we can make in the future.
At the beginning of the shutdown, whipped coffee was trending and everyone was making it. I tried it, and it turned out to be some of the best coffee I’ve had.
Since my last day in the office March 6th, I've been working from home. Eating at home. Sleeping at home. Everything at home. Running has been an escape for me. A chance to get out of the house and do something 'normal.'
Frank LOVES to run. He's our 115-lb German Shepherd, and he knows the squeak of my dresser drawer that holds my running clothes. As soon as he hears that, he gets excited...super excited. It means he's going somewhere!
We run about 3 times a week, Monday thru Friday; it's usually before work and 2 to 3 miles. On the weekends, he has to be patient, but we'll run longer distances, up to 6 miles right now. Our annual half-marathon in Vancouver, BC was canceled in May, as was a Half Ironman, so we're not really training for a long-distance event. But this keeps us busy and in shape.
Anne's job has her really busy, so I've taken over as Frank’s primary walker, too. Mornings, evenings. I've started listening to podcasts, so I plug in my earbuds, and we'll walk for 20 minutes up to an hour around the neighborhood.
Now that I have him out more, he follows me, rather than Anne, around the house. When I get up in the morning, he follows me into the bathroom. He points out my running stuff from the day before. If I hop in the shower, he goes and lays down, looking really sad. When I finish washing the dinner dishes, he gets super amped and shows me where I keep my jackets hung up.
He's happiest when he's out running (or walking), and so am I.
My name is Pilar. I am an exceptionally good looking cat, my main hobby is perfecting my reproachful stare, and I am in lifelong quarantine.
Once my cat mom and dad let me out of the house to see if I liked it. I didn’t. I was scared and so I meowed a lot, and loudly. And if you know me, you know that I rarely meow. Anyway, I ran around the yard for about seven minutes and then ran back inside where I cleaned myself extra vigorously to remove the strange outside smell.
I’ve noticed that my cat mom and dad have been spending extra time at home lately. At first it was weird and I was annoyed (more than usual). But I’ve gotten used to it and I like it. I get more play time and more snacks. And now, every day at 10:30am I go see my cat mom and roll around on the floor and show her my belly. When she tries to touch my belly, I bite her. I like this game. Especially the biting.
I chose Carlos as my Covid-19 object because he is good to talk to when I can't talk to my friends. Even though Carlos is a dog, he is smart and it is fun to train him and funny to watch him looking at the bunny next door. One time, the bunny got into our yard and Carlos and the bunny were chasing each other for like 5 MINUTES!!! before the bunny FINALLY escaped!
Anyway, that is why I chose Carlos as my COVID-19 object.
During this pandemic I feel just as connected as I was before the pandemic. With my phone I am connected with my friends and my cousins. I generally see my cousins often but obviously during the pandemic I am unable to see them in person. But with my phone I am able to call and face-time with them, same for my friends. For many I believe it is harder to connect in this time. For example, my parents, because their lives and jobs were designed to be around people and to talk to people face to face. That’s why I believe having the ability to have time to spend with others over the phone is very important.
In your photo I am by a tree. That tree is our maple tree. It is over 20 years old, which is older than me. My favorite memory with the tree is trying to climb it with my friends.
I like the beach. I like the beach because it brings more adventures in our life. You can collect shells, rocks, and you can swim in the water. in my hands were flowers and beach items. I collected the flowers because I like to water the garden and go to Lowe's to buy plants and seeds. In Washington, I admire the beach because there are no sharks and beautiful water and fish you can see. It is fun when I go to Vashon. I bring my dog, Carlos.
There is also a tree in this picture. I admire my tree because it is a wonderful place and I have my own spot. The tree is called Mapleville because it is a maple and I like to climb it. I like to climb the tree because when I go to the tippy tippy top I can see the people across the street build their house and it is fun. The tree is a beautiful place - I can go in many spots EXCEPT for the Queen's Throne, because that is Mazie's spot and she will kick me out. In this tree there are many swings and seats which are my swings.
There are also plants in this picture. I like the plants because they are all different colors and they are pretty much all my favorite color - like a rainbow, which is the best.
All of these things help me get through quarantine because they are fun. I also like to go to the pool because at the pool there are flowers that I like to pick and a blueberry patch. I also like to go to Etta's house. Etta is my best friend. We pick flowers and they are wild flowers. We go to a secret place - which a lot of other people know about - and pick just a few flowers. The tree has pretty bright green leaves and the sun shines through them. The sun is very pretty.
I chose the rabbits as my objects because I have not seen my friends as much during quarantine, and the rabbits have helped me to not feel lonely. My relationship with them has changed because I have spent more time with them than ever before. The rabbits sleep in a hutch in the backyard, but I take them out to the pen in the front yard almost every sunny day. I take them outside because they need exercise just like humans.
Last year one of the architects in our practice started hosting Watercolor Wednesdays – a bi-weekly lunch hour dedicated to painting with watercolors open to anyone in our Seattle office. Prior to the COVID-19 quarantine, it always seemed to coincide with a meeting or telephone call and I was never able to participate. When we started working remotely in mid-March, the group reinstituted Watercolor Wednesdays, this time connecting virtually through Microsoft Teams. Because the group meets online, anyone from our six offices is able to participate. A single image is shared onscreen and the group paints together for one hour. It has become one of my favorite hours of the week, providing a much-needed bit of relaxation and focus away from my other work.
30 years ago, I took a watercolor class and over the intervening years wondered about reconnecting with this particular medium. Watercolor Wednesdays gave me the excuse and opportunity to do so. I was able to easily order brushes, paint and paper online and now look forward every other week to exploring different techniques, colors and representation with my colleagues. I particularly enjoy the layering of washes to create depth in the painting.
My object for this project was a small group of Redwood bonsai seeds. It takes a lot of perfect conditions for bonsai to be successful, especially in the beginning. I wasn't very lucky and even though I had as many of the conditions right as I thought I could, no dice. I was tending to the soil for probably a month and a half before I asked Kate's grandma (Certified Master Gardener, yeah it's real) why nothing was happening. She told me that with plants, no matter how many things you think you have under control, it might not work out the way you expected. I was pretty bummed that even though I did it by the book, I didn't get any results. She reminded me that it's not supposed to be perfect with plants all the time. Each plant is different and sometimes we have to adapt to them. So with that, I started looking for another plant I could try to grow.
Before I found anything that I liked, Kate surprised me on my birthday and ordered a new seed starter kit to try. This time it was cocktail herbs (secretly for her use not mine, haha) so I gave it another shot. With some words of encouragement and a new look at trying to grow plants from seed, after about two weeks of mediocre care they sprouted! It made me realize that things don't have to be so serious all the time, and that sometimes you just gotta let things happen. This really helped me because sometimes I get too caught up in what I'm doing and I try to make everything perfect.
In the middle of a pandemic, things are far from light or fun. I think it's interesting that during this time I learned to take things a bit easier, and I truly had fun with this. Watching these plants grow has been just a small reminder that we have to keep growing and pushing forward.
Here are the little guys, I hope that with more mediocre, laid back care they will be an awesome treat in our cocktails!
This is a watering can that my Aunt Kerry gifted me for Christmas in 2019. Every year she asks for a list. She doesn't like to give surprise gifts. She likes to give people exactly what they want. I sent her a list of five or so things from a gardening supply store that I love. The watering can was top of the list, and a good price for a gift. I have a can already, but this one is premium. It has a metal rose (that's what the nozzle is called) with very fine holes so that the water doesn't spray heavily. It pours out like a soft rain. I like to grow my vegetables from seed. Some varieties don't like to be transplanted after sprouting and must be sown directly outside. It's harder to be delicate when watering outside, but this watering can does the trick. I can water the seeds without disturbing them. And the can is large enough that I don't have to return to the hose to fill it frequently.
When I first grip its handle, my mind sometimes wanders back to 8th grade when I first read Robert Newton Peck’s “A Day No Pigs Would Die”. There’s a moment when the main character, Rob, pauses as he eyes his father’s tools:
Most of the tools were dark with age and their handles were a deep brown. But where Papa's hands had took a purchase on them, they were lighter in color. Almost a gold. The wear of his labor had made them smooth and shiny, where his fingers had held each one. I looked at all the handles of his tools. It was real beautiful the way they was gilded by work.
But once I start swinging into the dirt, whether to place a seedling, or to rip out a weed, I notice my handle is more soiled than it is gold. And that’s ok. It’s my favorite tool. The most versatile hand gardening tool there is. The shape is an old one, well established by the Bronze Age. The inhabitants of ancient Mesopotamia believed it was a gift from Enlil, the Sumerian deity of wind, earth and storms. Opposite the flat-bladed adze is the pointed pick. Separating these two features is a central eye. The all-seeing eye is wedged onto an oak handle. Though not quite gilded, my handle is worn and weathered. And as it tapers to a narrow terminus, I customized the end with a duct tape knob.
Chuck’s beard has improved our adult life together.
For some reason it softens my mood towards him.
I always thought he would look better with one. More distinguished. More mature.
Without the beard, he looks really young....too young.
I also never knew it would feel so soft, I thought it would be scratchy. It is not.
I really do feel like I'm married to a different but the same person now.
My Xbox controllers mean a lot to me because I have been using them during quarantine and they really give me a way to play with my friends in a virtual world, because I obviously can’t see them in real life.
I’m gonna be honest with you (not to sound like I’m addicted or anything), having the Xbox has really changed my life.
I have selected a puzzle for this project because it is an activity I have been doing during the time of quarantine. Now that there are a few more things to do outside, Lynn and I are still making some puzzles, but not as much. Growing up, I loved making puzzles, and I always made them with my mom. I think I have always liked them because it is a challenging activity, and to finish it you can’t give up. Whenever I start a project, I must finish it.
When the stay at home time happened, I was a little worried about how to teach the girls the things they were supposed to learn at school, but as I am a teacher it ultimately wasn’t so hard. There were some difficult moments, as I am living with them and as their nanny and they didn’t see me as a teacher.
I love being with them and spending time with them. Summer is my favorite time because we get to do a lot of things outdoors, like swimming, paddle boarding, etc. These two years as their nanny are going by super fast and I don’t even realize the time I have left, which is nothing. I am going to miss them a lot and I love being part of the McBride family!
Seven months ago, even imagining a 'pandemic lockdown' would have been a topic only a few creative souls could have envisioned. However, when confronted with just such an event, the one thing that felt normal in this strange new world was cooking. While I have always loved cooking, this pandemic provided reasons to cook beyond the love of good food; it became the foundation of daily family dinner.
Normal times, with work, activities, practices and travel, made finding time to sit down together as a family to catch-up very difficult. The new family dinner became not only the chance to catch-up, but also created an opportunity for Lynn and me to connect with our twins Cameron & Alissa, and a chance to provide meaning in a changing, chaotic new world.
The object that best epitomizes this pandemic lockdown is a cast iron pan that Lynn bought for me a few years ago, and that has established itself as my primary cooking tool. As my mom handed down her cast iron pan to me, I will in turn hand both her pan, and my new one, to my children. My hope is that this pan will not only be the source of amazing meals for my family, but will also be used by my children (and their children) at the center of multiple generations of family dinners.
I use this blue moleskine journal during the school year. Every day at 8:00 AM the children gather at the kitchen table and report what their schoology account asks of them for the day. I record this in the blue notebook and with God’s help try to do what I can to educate these young souls. Homeschooling started in March and continued through the end of the Spring semester. Now we are starting up again for Fall 2020 and it looks like we will be using this notebook as a homeroom for the foreseeable future.
I’ve found great joy in baking over the past several years. It allows me to be creative, to experiment, to create beauty. I love exploring new flavors and buying the “right” ingredients like a real vanilla bean or a fluffy cake flour. Pre-Covid, I was primarily focused on sweet baked goods, but when confined to our house, it was time to explore a new feat: Sourdough.
I’d never baked bread before, nor had I ever had my own sourdough starter. I was excited yet intimated with how to handle this wily living beast. I read websites, all with slightly different instructions on how to feed a starter, how to keep it alive, and how to properly use it. My first experiment was “sourdough popovers” (quick dinner rolls). I fed the starter throughout the day, marveling at it expanding in size beneath the thin tea towel. The popovers were a quick success and encouraged me to try a more difficult task, making a “crunchy bread”. The process took two days, growing and feeding the starter, allowing the dough to rise and fall. I was hopeful that it would measure up to the quality of store bought “crunchy bread,” a staple in our family. Although it tasted ok, its color was too pale, and the crust was not crisp enough. It did not meet my expectations, so I kept trying, experimenting with different methodologies of baking, preheating the pan, using a Dutch oven, spraying water on the dough to create steam, keeping the lid on, taking the lid off, baking for a longer period of time, baking at a higher or lower temperature. Eventually, I created a bread that I was incredibly proud of. That is the bread that I am holding in this photo.
Finding the right formula to create a successful bread is similar to learning to live in quarantine: it’s a lengthy process and takes time. It doesn’t have an absolute solution. It requires perseverance. It is difficult. Yet, it has also brought me incredible joy to share not only this bread, but also this unique and extended moment in time with my husband, Damien, our daughters, Alissa and Cameron, and our au pair, Angela.
With the virus limiting our social interactions, my headphones have become a way to access the outside world. They allow me to listen to music and podcasts as I work, and with libraries closed, to enjoy audiobooks. Books have always been important to me, as a source of inspiration and as a means of managing stress... I often go through 3 or 4 a week, everything from trashy fiction to physics and philosophy. Over the last few months I've become increasingly restless, with a need for greater stimulation and engagement. Since so much of the city is shut down, audiobooks are one way to address that craving. And while this may not be as satisfying as discussing or debating ideas in person, the simple act of listening can be therapeutic in itself. When you're feeling disconnected and isolated, sometimes it's reassuring to hear another voice (even if it's a recording).
At the same time, the headphones help remove me from my immediate surroundings. In a city where apartments are small and expensive, I consider this a healthy and necessary part of living with other people - especially in the midst of a pandemic, when everyone is working from home and deliberately staying indoors. This can be uncomfortable, even claustrophobic; however, it can be offset by the creation of mental space, with the headphones acting as physical barriers, and the audiobooks drawing my thoughts elsewhere. As a sort of escapism, this can be a comforting distraction.
To some extent, these are conflicting impulses: the desire for greater connection and interaction, alongside the need for more separation and personal space. I think they both represent a longing for greater control, over when and how I interact with my environment - which is perhaps understandable, given how thoroughly the virus has disrupted our daily lives and routines.
I love my bike. I love that it is gray and pink. I love the sound it makes when it rides - a little clunk, a little wobble. At the height of quarantine the kids and I would RIDE THE RIDGE (a quick 3 mile round trip to Mt. Baker) every day before or after lunch. The rides were a great way to be alone together and, maybe most importantly, in motion - we’d interrupt whatever grumpiness our cobbled-together-home-school-crazy brought and start the afternoon fresh and free!
Since the pandemic hit, I’ve started running more regularly than I have in years. I go 3-4 times per week now. It’s been so much easier since I have been working from home. At 4:30pm, I shut my laptop, put on my running shoes and go. I love getting outside and it’s an amazing stress reliever.
Another great stress reliever for me? Wine. And plenty of it. I can’t decide which is better. The running or the wine. Regardless, I am incredibly grateful to have both. They are things that I can rely on during a very unreliable time.
In general, I feel like my work/life balance has improved dramatically since we started quarantine. I no longer spend more than 90 minutes per day in a stressful, soul-sucking commute. I can throw in a load of laundry between work meetings. When I am stressed out about work, I can go sit outside in my yard or snuggle my cat. I rarely work late anymore. I guess it’s ironic that when we are not free to do a lot of things, I actually feel more free in some ways since I no longer feel chained to my desk. Who knew?!
I’ve always loved cameras, though I’ve never geeked out on them. The first one I owned was a Kodak from the early 1980s. I wish I still had it. Then my Uncle Ken gave me his Canon AE-1 with a bag full of lenses. I learned to use this set up in college, and it led me through a semester in Europe. My first digital camera was a hand-me-down that I bought from my friend Christoper. It was a Sony, so I guess that set me down the Sony road.
I have owned my Slik 1000 tripod since the late 1980s. It has been a warrior, but in the last year, while its metal parts still work, the few plastic ones have started to fail. It is still functional, but I’m looking.
Both of these tools have served me well during Quarantine. They have led me on late night walks, journeys through the Arboretum, and up the Duwamish River.
This book would not exist without them, and I owe them my gratitude.