Spatchcocking the Future

Eris’ time has come….

As we watch our reality collapse around us, something else is unfolding as well. We are entering a Divine Liminal Space, the realm of Shadow, Tricksters, and perhaps a creation within the destruction.

Wile of Eris, oil on board, 16x 20, by Oakland-based artist Jaclyn Alderete.

The above painting, so beautifully rendered by Oakland artist Jaclyn Alderete, is profoundly otherwordly. I mean this literally, in the sense that aspects of it defy conscious thought and enter into the realm of the more mystical collective unconscious. As I have contemplated the state of the world these past few days, I realized that Eris’ time has come at last. Bear with me, please, as I wind my way through a long-winded explanation as to who Eris is, and why I am choosing to write about this painting.

Anyone who has taken my Theories of Personality class knows that I am deeply interested in Greek myths, and their archetypal and unconscious significance. Freud was deeply aware of this; with one name, Oedipus, he could invoke an entire range of emotions and bring a person back to the fundamental question regarding whether determinism exists, or whether we have free will. Such is the power of myth, and many tomes have been written on the subject.

As the years have passed, and I have continued to teach on the subject, I’ve grown more deeply intrigued by Jungian psychology, the power of archetypal imagery, and most importantly, by the archetypal realm of the Shadow. I have been shaken from my Freudian roots, by the continual emergence of things and events that I cannot rationally explain. I find myself drawn to exploring this more deeply, from the perspective of a broad-based Depth Psychology approach.

This incredible painting is a perfect example of what Jung called synchronicity, which exhibits itself through meaningful coincidences that are not causally linked to one another in time and space. These events hold a deeper significance for the people who experience them, and they point to an inter-connectedness between people that is not wholly based in the material plane. It enters into the realm of the mystical, perhaps the magickal, making it a rather tricky subject to approach if one is attempting to stay within mainstream psychological circles.

As luck would have it, I just experienced one of these events as I am writing. I accidentally hit some button or another, and WordPress decided to show me a menu with images and links I might wish to insert. The first image my eye landed upon, was this:

The is the cover of an album by Electric Light Orchestra. The title of the album is Time.

I happened to have this album cover saved amongst my files, as I recently posted it to my social media feed as part of a challenge to post ten albums that were influential in one’s life. This particular album reached my teenage soul, in 1981, with it’s prog-rock lyrical beauty and genuine angst. It is a theme album about a time traveller living in a dystopian and automated future (2095), longing for his lost human love who was still back in 1981. It seemed a bit ironic at the time, given that 1981 certainly didn’t seem particularly worthy of nostalgia, as we perched on the edge of a nuclear threat and endured the Reagan years. Today, however, I realize that we’ve come full circle, and the snake has swallowed his mythical tail. We face an even more dire threat, as a pandemic and global unrest threaten to destroy human kind, and climate change looms on the horizon for any who make it through long enough to see that outcome.

Back to my original point, my eyes landing upon that particular image was meaningful to me, and felt much deeper than simply the hitting of a wrong key as I lie on my bed and type, awkwardly. It spoke to me of the circular nature of human events, and (alas) provided an argument in favor of determinism. Perhaps our future has already been written, and we are simply playing it out as it unfolds (or has unfolded.)

Let me return to the painting of Eris. My dear friend, fellow bird rescuer, and amazing artist, Jaclyn Alderete, saw a photo of me that I had posted on Facebook. She was taken by the image, and reached out to me and asked if she could paint me as a depiction of the Greek Goddess Eris. Eris is the Goddess of discord and strife, and is often pictured holding a golden apple. She is a Goddess of war, and, I believe, a personification of the feminine aspect of the Trickster archetype. She brings chaos with her, and it serves to unmask the darkest aspects of the Shadow.

Unbeknownst to Jaclyn, I have a long-held fascination with this particular Diety. Her Roman counterpart is Discordia. As is always the case with myth, there are many versions of Eris’ narrative, but her shining moment with her golden apple remains somewhat consistent. At Mount Olympus, a wedding was being held, to which most of the Gods and Goddesses were invited. Eris, however, was excluded from invitation due to her disruptive nature. Enraged, she secretly arrived at the scene, and tossed her golden apple into the crowd. Inscribed on the apple was a simple phrase: “To The Fairest.”

Most of the Gods and Goddesses in attendance were wary and wise to Eris’ tricks, but three Goddesses (Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite) all believed themselves to be the fairest in attendance, and began to fight over the apple. Eventually, through a bunch of epic twists and turns, this battle of vanity led to the Trojan War.

Eris is sometimes depicted with wings, and her parentage varies from version to version of the myth; in one version that I find particularly compelling, she is the child of Nyx, who is the Goddess of night, and one of the offspring of the primordial beings of the realm of chaos — the great swirling abyss, which is both creation and destruction.

My fascination with Eris as a deity began through counter-culture, interestingly (and innocently) enough. As an aspiring hipster artist in the late 80s, I was introduced to the writings of Robert Anton Wilson, whom I consider to have been something of an unwilling prophet as well as a fine scholar on many topics. Wilson, along with Timothy Leary, and co-author Robert Shea, began writing about a (presumably fictional, in their minds) group of Elites who control the world; it had stemmed from the historical Bavarian Illuminati. As they wrote and researched, they began to question whether they had stumbled onto something that was actually happening, and were plagued with some ominous manifestations of synchronicity that led them to question reality as they knew it.

Many, many blog entries could be dedicated to this topic, but by way of Wilson’s writing, I stumbled onto the (presumably humorous) religion of Discordianism. Discordians hold Eris as their highest deity, and dedicated an entire (albeit small) literature to the study of finding one’s way by embracing chaos. What began as a joke started to take on meaning, and through the humor, Discordians arrived at a conclusion that is perfectly in line with many of the Theosophical writings: It is only through chaos that one can establish order. Somehow or another, the Discordian movement had been drawn in to something deeply spiritual, and of questionable virtue. The conclusions that they were beginning to reach echoed the sentiments of the Nefarious Illuminati about whom Wilson had been writing. Order out of Chaos. The lines between fiction and reality, good and evil, humor and the occult began to dissolve. This somewhat frightened an agnostic Wilson, who wondered if he had gotten in over his spiritual head, so to speak.

Eventually, it began to frighten me, as well. I had a very strong attraction to matters Occult when I was quite young (I wrote a 6th grade report on Witchcraft.) As I grew older, I became much more cautious, and eventually decided to keep my interest to a purely scholarly level when it came to occult material.

As often happens to writers (and to creative people in general, I believe,) I continued to have episodes of crazy synchronicity, and a few run-ins along the way with what appeared to be beings that were not of this earth, or this plane. Make what you will of that; I am still unsure what to make of it myself. One trope emerges again and again, however; time is oddly circular, and we repeat and repeat versions on a theme.

So, many years after walking away from my interest in Discordianism and all related matter, I found myself perfectly, beautifully, hauntingly portrayed as Eris Herself, clutching her apple as she prepares to hurl it into the crowd.

The photograph from which that painting was rendered was taken on a rare night out, when my teaching assistant (Justin) and I had decided to just acknowledge that we were as much friends as we were colleagues, and we went to see Stevie Nicks perform live. Both of us are long-time fans, though he far outshines me with his fandom. As a witchy teen, I was literally almost obsessed with Stevie Nicks, and I think she came about as close to being a Deity for me as anyone or anything ever has. Of course, I dressed for the occasion, and the photograph was a playful collaboration between me and my roommate Sandi Ball, who has an astoundingly good photographic eye. I am extremely fortunate to have access to said eye nearly all the time, now, since we are quarantined together.

I need to end this post, as it is nearly 4 am, and I haven’t slept in well over 48 hours at this point. However, the thought occurred to me today that I need to have a deep conversation with Eris, because she lives within me, within my Shadow. As frightening as the prospect is, I may need to consider that her message is important. Whether we like it or not, her time has arrived, and her apple is flying towards all the vain and jealous and hateful people who are clamoring for it at any cost. Her apple — MY apple — is headed straight for the White House, with it’s shiny gold glow calling out to the President. We have chaos, and now we also have the chance for rebirth, for reinvention. We are in the Divine Liminal Space, wherein everything is dismantled and deconstructed. I will post a long piece on the power of the liminal space in the coming days, as it is greatly appropriate as we watch the world crumble around us. I think the take-away message from this long, incoherent writing is that perhaps we are headed for some kind of Order out of Chaos, but (I hope) it is not the total police state that Wilson and his art/writing colleagues envisioned as the final goal of the Illuminati. Chaos is tricky, and Tricksters have a tendency to undo themselves eventually, by being too clever by half (as the saying goes.)

My brief dive into the abyss, that fated night that I went to see my historical Goddess Stevie Nicks, may well have plunged me into the actual primordial realm, where Nyx (see the synchronicity?), mother of Eris, reigns.

Sometimes Magick happens whether we like it or not, and whether we seek it or run from it. Such is the nature of Magick.

Killer Looks for Killer Times

Tired of sitting around in pajamas while you shelter in place? Bring out your sickest looks, and look absolutely killer while you fight the apocalypse from home.

Just because you are sheltering in place, there’s no reason not to break out the apocalyptic glamour! Don’t sit around in pajamas, while living through the most end-of-the-world excitement that most of us will ever experience. In fact, because you now exist in the world mainly as a digital presence, you have the freedom to be anyone you please. So, dig into your wardrobe, and get to work creating a new you (or, several!)

Wigs are a great way to change your appearance from day to day. They’re also practical, because they allow you to cut your natural hair very short, thus making it easy to cover when you venture outdoors, and easy to wash and dry quickly. The same wig can be used to create different moods, simply by changing the clothing and accessories one chooses.

Add sunglasses, hats, and shaggy fur to create a retro-glam feel. Or, perhaps add a softer touch, to create a romantic vibe.

Don’t forget to rock a mask… they are the hallmark of a well put together pandemic look. No need be boring about them, either– a mask can be the accessory that pulls your whole look together.

A mask can create a look all on its own, so don’t neglect the importance of them as a fashion staple of your 2020 look!

Remember, by staying home and avoiding contact with others, you are being a warrior, fighting a pandemic with your actions. Look the part, embrace your role …. get creative and have some fun!

No matter how you choose to portray yourself, these 2020 looks can be absolutely sick!

Learning the ropes

So, I figured out last night that I can’t delegate posts to appear on certain pages, as I thought I could. The most recent post is part of the Plague Doctor project …though it appears here on the main blog. There’s probably some setting I’m missing that would actually allow me to move it, but what I did was to post the link to the new post on the Plague Doctor page, which seems to suffice. I actually rather like that method, as it allows me to post all my content here, and then also link to it on the separate pages. Since these are works-in-progress, I like sharing the evolution of them here, in any event.

My roommate, friend, and volunteer photographer, Sandi stated yesterday that, due to the pandemic, anyone who is working digitally (and particularly if we are artists) is having to get a crash course in digital photography and videography, almost immediately. She noted that people actually go to school and get degrees for these things, and yet we are all scrambling to learn them ourselves in very short order. It’s really true … I can’t believe the amount of time I am spending learning how to configure pages, how to set up lightiing, how to photograph myself, and edit the photos, and….. it’s honestly no wonder that I woke up with a migraine this morning!

This blog will eventually become much more artistic, more polished, and better configured. At the moment, I’m still amazed that the words “my blog” are even coming out of my mouth…. I never saw myself as someone who would tread into these waters. I have many, many steep learning curves ahead, and I feel like Sisyphus rolling a digital boulder up and down said curve. Look for a Beauty Blog post in the day or so… I have photos that I should really edit before posting, and content to write. Welcome to the new reality.

Signs of the Times

Daily routines have become nightmarish, due to the changes brought about by the pandemic. Once-familiar places are strange, deserted shells of what they were before the plague descended upon us…..

Lone nitrile glove, discarded on the sidewalk. Photography: Copyright of Sandi Ball, 2020.

When one leaves the relative normalcy of one’s home, and ventures (perhaps with trepidation) into a public place, it becomes undeniably evident that the world outside is not the one we remember from a mere four months ago. The streets are nearly empty of both cars and pedestrians, and the few people who are to be seen are generally wearing masks, and perhaps other protective gear.

On weekends past, it was not uncommon (if perhaps unpleasant) to see discarded condoms littering the sidewalk or parking lot; now, one finds the unmistakable blue nitrile gloves, thrown down with the same amount of disregard for whomever might encounter this trash as were the condoms that were their predecessors. Condoms are nowhere to be seen, presumably because few people wish to be close enough to one another to need a such an item.

Line of masked customers, waiting at a distance from one another, in order to enter the produce market. Photography: Copyright of Sandi Ball, 2020.

Once-thriving businesses are struggling or failing completely, due to the shelter-in-place ordinance that has been extended until at least May 31, 2020. Most of the businesses that are allowed to remain open have instituted a policy in which only a few people are allowed to enter at one time; the customers who are waiting to enter are mandated to stand at least 6 feet away from one another, unless they reside in the same household.

Empty shelves where paper products are normally displayed. Photo: Copyright Sandi Ball, 2020.

One commodity that has been coveted in the United States, oddly enough, is toilet paper. It is a rarity to find it in stock anywhere, and customers are limited in the amount that they can purchase if they do find it. Paper products, in general, have been in short supply.

Rejoicing after finding the last of the toilet paper, hidden at the back of a low shelf. Photo: Copyright Sandi Ball, 2020.

Shopping for necessities, which was once a routine daily task, has become a feat; one must don protective gear even for the most basic of errands, and they are done as quickly and as infrequently as possible. Leaving the house for any reason is threatening. It is impossible to ignore that the world we left behind is gone, and a strange, threatening new landscape has overtaken the places we once though we knew.

Appropriate spacing for customers in line is marked on the floor with x symbols. Photo: Copyright Sandi Ball, 2020.

It is painful to venture out into these streets, that once were home to customers enjoying each others’ company. Many businesses display signs stating that they are temporarily closed; others have simply vacated their spaces, aware that the shelter-in-place order is not likely to be lifted in the near future.

Outside the Alameda Theater, which has closed indefinitely due to a county mandate. Photo: Copyright Sandi Ball, 2020.

Leaving the house for any reason has become a noteworthy event. Venturing down the block for a quick errand is now a monumental task, that requires preparation, both physically (mask, gloves, etc.) and psychologically. It is difficult to shake the haunted feeling one has when returning home after having tread across such unfamiliar terrain.

Returning home with a sole purchase, through a near-empty parking lot. Photo: Copyright Sandi Ball, 2020.

Slaying the Apocalypse (Before it Slays Me)

Although I didn’t get the page up quite as quickly as I’d planned, I have now configured and added Madam Spatchcock’s Beauty Blog.

This work-in-progress photo essay will explore identity in the age of COVID-19, through the lens of Madam Spatchcock, newly reincarnated for the 21st Century, as a beauty blogger.

Our presence in the world — by necessity — is becoming largely a digital one. Although this was increasingly becoming the case prior to the current pandemic, it is now nearly ubiquitous, affecting even those of us who previously retained a largely analog presence in our daily lives. Rather than in-person meetings, we are having Zoom calls and conferences. Classes are being held online, rather than in classrooms. Face-to-face meetings are rare, and even then, our physical bodies are often separated by masks, gloves, and goggles.

This project aims to look at beauty and fashion, as they relate to the zeitgeist of disease and death. Much like Madam Spatchcock’s original incarnation as the Steampunk Rag-and-Bone purveyor, this project centers around art, fashion, and subculture as harbingers and portraits of the current cultural moment, as reflected both unconsciously and in a more conscious, overt manner.

As with the Plague Doctor essay, I plan to share the evolution of this project. It may, at some point, take on a more finished form — but the beauty of blogging is that I can share my own experience as a new blogger and an artist working in an entirely new way.

As I wait for the arrival of filming backdrops, a webcam (for conferencing) and a number of other things I never imagined I would care to own, I’m reminded of a moment that seems almost like yesterday. My mother (who was ahead of her time) gifted me with my first computer, which was a Commodore Amiga. I was a 20-something undergraduate, majoring in art, with very little idea what I might want to do eventually. I remember telling her that I didn’t need a computer, and that I never wanted to own one. I preferred bound books, hand-painted art, and typewriters. Nonetheless, I made use of the Amiga for word-processing my English literature essays. I still have faded copies of those papers, printed on my daisy-wheel printer, with my professor’s treasured commentary written on them.

English literature would eventually become a second major for me, alongside psychology, when I eventually returned to school to finish the undergraduate studies that were started and stopped several times during the 1990s. I never finished the undergraduate major in art, largely because San Francisco State University, where I was studying, had begun to cap the number of undergrad units one could accrue without graduating. I eventually settled on psychology and English literature as my majors, and temporarily let fall to the background my other loves of art and human sexuality studies ( though I would resume studying art many years later as a post-bac and then a dual MFA/MA student at San Francisco Art Institute.) I may yet pursue graduate level studies in human sexuality, though that remains one of several possibilities for future educational endeavors.

As the future becomes more and more one of digital interface with others, and my Amiga is only one of a list of now-obsolete computers I have owned over the years, I still take solace in my bound books. To this day, I have the copies of my James Joyce books, and my Yeats and Eliot readers complete with the handwritten notes I kept in the margins while taking those undergrad literature classes so long ago. They are even more precious to me now than they were at the time. There are some things that digital technology cannot replicate, and the classroom experiences I had in a day when my professor lectured from his hand-written notes are very high on that list.

Art during plague time…

Dreaming of the outside world, but the window remains closed….

Today, in addition to necessary life tasks, I will attempt to create and format the second photo-essay page of this blog. Despite all the chaos and tragedy in the world, I am celebrating the return of my creative drive, which had largely been missing-in-action for many years. I’m noticing that a lot of my friends are engaging in creative endeavors . Some of them are consistently productive with art (which I so greatly admire!) but others, like myself, have had long dry spells. The current world situation seems to be bringing out the creative spirit in a lot of people, and it also (by necessity) makes the time available to make good on artistic ideas.

The photo essays are works-in-progress, but I want to share the entire journey here. At some point, they may become much more polished creations. For now, I want to journal the creating of these projects as they happen. I’ve always been very process-oriented in my art.

No promises as to a time frame, but I also feel the drive to paint again. I haven’t painted in earnest since art school (my poor fragile ego took a hard hit with that expensive adventure.) I’ve since done a lot of reflecting on self, other, the meaning of making art, etc. I think I’m ready to go back to the canvas. All things considered, I’m very glad that I went to SFAI when I did. I am still unpacking the things I learned there, and making sense of the experience. I recently learned that SFAI is very likely to close its doors after this semester, which is sad beyond belief. It is a place like no other, and I am fortunate to have been able to study there.

My goal for today is to have the second page created and formatted, and to have an introductory post up. I do have real-world things I need to do as well, but it still seems to be a reasonable goal. The tech aspect of all of this terrifies me, but it is also providing a much needed push to get me into the 21st century. I now own a camera for vlogging/video lectures/etc. I have yet to take it out of the box, as it just arrived yesterday. I think I have a hot date with a user manual in my future, and perhaps the need for a wall against which to bang my head.

It’s time to face the news for the day, while I caffeinate with some very strong, take-the-paint-off-your-car coffee. I am trying to limit my news intake to a couple of hours a day, as I had been reading news to the point of total obsession since this situation began. I learned of the outbreak in Wuhan on New Years Eve, and the entire first part of this year was largely swallowed up by reading as much international news as I could find. I have watched this whole thing unfold.

In addition to staying on top of the major events and updates, and staying home and wearing protective gear when I need to go out, there isn’t a lot I can do about it. I’m taking a lot of supplements and attending to my own immune health, and protecting myself as much as possible.

So, I want to make the best of this time at home. It isn’t every day that one finds oneself living out an apocalyptic scenario in slow-grind, real time, as it happens. In addition to being horrifying and tragic, it’s also rather freeing, in that it allows for a restructuring of the world as we have known it, both on a grand scale, and on a personal level.

I’ll be adding a separate page dedicated to the psychology of the liminal space, and the role of the Trickster in the upending of the world. I haven’t written it out yet, but I have much to say on the subject.

Politicizing the Plague….

I posted this on Facebook this morning, and it generated quite a lot of conversation immediately … so I thought it worth copying here.

I’m noticing that this current pandemic situation is just worsening the already-horrible political divide in this country. We need to realize that this virus doesn’t care one bit if you are a Republican, a Democrat, or neither. It doesn’t care if you believe in it or not. It doesn’t care if you think it is a hoax.

We are all vulnerable to getting it, and the newest scientific reports indicate it may do permanent damage even in mild cases. (That was published in the journal Nature, so it is well peer reviewed.) Refusing to stay home, refusing to wear a mask, and so forth is not “rebelling against the man” or “raging against the machine” or “protecting your freedoms” — it is potentially exposing yourself, and *anyone you come into contact with* — to a virus that may ultimately be fatal to even the young and healthy.

My future is on order, and will arrive soon…

No teaser photo for this post, and no real social commentary … just some personal thoughts and updates. I just took the huge step of ordering a video/photo backdrop setting, lighting, and a camera for recording video. Yes, I could probably do a good deal of that with my phone, but I wanted the external mic, and a number of other goodies that my phone doesn’t really provide. I’ll likely start out with the phone, and then move to the camera as I gain the skills to use it. I also have an old, but very good, digital SLR camera that can be used for still photography, though the newer one will probably do all that and more. I haven’t done any real photography in decades, as I was a darkroom girl back in the day…. but I do love photography, and I need to learn the digital end of things.

I watched a bunch of tutorials, and decided to take the plunge and just do it. Whatever teaching I do from here is likely to be done on video, and so this seems a sound investment professionally — and it also greatly supports the art projects I’m currently doing. The going is slow, the learning curve immense — but I can do this. It’s probably a good thing I recently cut off my hair, because I might pull it all out in the process, otherwise.

Today’s task is to finish reorganizing the physical studio area of my space to allow for the installation of said backdrop and equipment — I’m getting rid of some furniture to make space for it, but that’s just fine. I need to have more things hauled away, in any event.

Crisis has an interesting effect on people. Artists tend to want to make art, but as many of us are also highly emotional creatures, it becomes a battle between curling up in a ball and trying to shut out the world, vs. creating. I find I’m alternating between the two ends of that spectrum. I have bursts of creativity, and productiveness, and then I need to just curl up in bed and watch videos or sleep an obscene amount.

I’m finding it extremely difficult to focus on teaching at the moment — and judging from the amount of students who are asking for extensions, or simply vanishing from sight, I believe they are struggling similarly. I have no idea how we’ll manage grading this semester, but I’m thinking we’ll need to be very lenient, and probably give a lot of incompletes as grades.

In addition to getting caught up on my teaching duties, my goal is to have the studio space organized by the end of next week, and have a few beginning photos and the page completed for the second photo essay. I may get brave and try a theme layout, that allows for multiple photos on a single page. My first attempt at that was pretty bleak, but I’m forcing myself to learn. As painful as the process is, I’m exceedingly proud of myself for sticking to it. It looks as if I can also customize the layout to my liking using the tools, so that might be a less frustrating option. I will definitely be playing around with that for a while.

I’m also wanting to add a page dedicated solely to the Trickster, so that I can include academic references, as well as bits and pieces of my written art thesis. I want to add a page relating to the psychology of crisis, as well. This is turning into a multidisciplinary blog, but that’s how I am, and how I think. It’s one of the gifts of having ADHD — which I definitely have. I wasn’t diagnosed with it until adulthood, and wasn’t medicated for it until this past year, so the landscape of my inner world is that of an ADHD person. The only difference is that now, with medication, I can convey some of said landscape more clearly to others, in ways that are somewhat less circuitous. My oldschool, rather tangential teaching style was once something that my more interested students could follow; it is completely antiquated now, and I need to adapt to my new student base.

The second photo-essay that I am constructing involves visual identity as portrayed solely in a digital manner, as necessitated by the current pandemic and restrictions on meeting and even being outside. There will be much costuming, and many wigs involved in this process — and, I have discovered that there is also a very steep learning curve for how to wear wigs. I’m a novice at this; I wore one in the 90s, when I was hired by an old manager for a corporate job in a conservative office setting. At the time, I had a short bleached buzz-cut, and I have a rather large tattoo on the back of my neck … so I bought a couple of wigs then, and settled on a long, blonde one to wear to work. I didn’t know about products such as glue, wig tape, and such … and lace front wigs weren’t widely available back then, so it looked like a wig. I’ve worn a couple for costumes over the years, but I haven’t worn them properly. I had a very cute Betty Page wig that I wore quite a lot for clubbing and such, in the 90s. I have no idea what happened to it, so I recently purchased another.

Now, I’m learning (from all the fine ladies and gents who share their knowledge on YouTube) how to install a wig properly, which ones are best, how to hack a cheap synthetic wig and make it look convincing, which products to use, and so much more….. There’s actually quite a lot of work involved in customizing a wig, I’ve discovered. I think I will document some of that photographically, as it works into the project well.

That’s enough early morning rambling from me …. I need to hit the pot of coffee I just brewed, and catch up on news, before I start moving heavy objects and trying to consolidate my belongings a bit further. I get the rare pleasure of visiting the nursery today to clean the aviaries, and I have packages to pick up, and a pharmacy visit to make. I will undoubtedly look like a ninja or a very tiny thug, as my “out in the world” attire involves being fully covered, wearing a mask, goggles, and (at times) gloves. I’ve noticed that more and more people in my area are dressing similarly — pretty much everyone wears masks, some wear goggles and a head covering, and many wear gloves. It’s oddly incognito, going out in that attire.

Madam Spatchcock, Plague Doctor Revisited

Yesterday marked the first photo session for one of two photo-essays that I am conceptualizing (many, many thanks to my roommate, Sandi Ball, for following me around Alameda and photographing me.) It seems only a natural evolution of Madam Spatchcock that she should become a Plague Doctor, since she was essentially a variant of that to begin with.

The past few weeks have been spent acquiring costuming and props, an endeavour that is more laborsome than it might appear, in a time in which one cannot simply go to the store and make purchases for most things. Furthermore, I no longer have access to my once-readily-available stockpile of secondhand clothing, from which to spatchcock together most anything I needed for projects past. Even if thrift stores were open, I wouldn’t care to brave them at this moment in time. Having pared down my huge backstock of hoarded sewing materials of the last couple of years, I now find myself somewhat beholden to what I can order online.

Also, as I take on these projects, I realize how very much I am a relic of the 20th century (with requisite homage the several centuries preceding the 20th,) as the technological aspects of presenting anything to the world is an absolutely baffling frustration for me. However, being confined mostly to sheltering-in-place, the Internet is my only means for reaching an audience artistically, and the situation is therefore leading to a greatly overdue crash course in interfacing with the world through digital means.

It seems likely that my employment will also hinge on digital communication more and more, forcing me to learn to navigate this terrain. I undoubtedly should have learned most of these things a decade, or more, ago — but had rather delighted in being as analog as possible where education was concerned.

I suspect I will use this blog page to chronicle the day to day struggles and adventures of a life spent sheltering-in-place, and my overall thoughts and observations on the current cultural moment, the psychology of a pandemic, and other matters that are on my mind.

I hope to put together several adjunct pages — one for each photo-project, and a third dedicated entirely to my thoughts about the Trickster archetype past, present, and future. I’m not certain that my current account will support that, but I aim to find out. If it doesn’t, I will either a.) upgrade to an account level that does support it, or b.) start an entirely new and separate account to present the photo-essays. I am dearly hoping that I can do this all with my current set-up, as managing this basic one is proving to be quite challenging enough for my current abysmal skill set.

Time Is Dissolving

As we near the close of the third week of a shelter-in-place quarantine order, days are beginning to meld one into the next. Sleep is furtive, and comes when it pleases, often leaving for days at a time, and returning with a furor to encompass nights and days back to back. People are checking their calendars more often, not because they have things to do, but because they can’t remember which day of the week it is, with no daily schedules to help them mark the time passing. Few of us are working regular day jobs, as many have moved to working from home, and many more have become completely unemployed.

We (here in the SF Bay Area) are no longer allowed to leave our homes, except to perfom necessary tasks such as grocery shopping, pharmacy pickups, and animal care. We are still permitted to exercise outdoors, though it looks as though that privilege will soon be greatly restricted.

We are not to congregate in groups, and are discouraged from having any physical contact with others, excepting those with whom we live.

Each day, a good portion of the world looks with fascination and horror at a somewhat-meaningless chart, detailing how many new cases of COVID19 have been diagnosed, and where. We see a running total of active cases, recovered cases, and (increasingly) deaths.

We read articles about politicians bickering, casting blame, and fumbling around ineffectively in attempts to mitigate the damage. We listen to our Clown President changing his story daily, always in an attempt to make it look as if he is doing a fantastic job handling this crisis, when nothing could be further from the truth. We cringe, we attempt to turn off the news, and many of us fail.

It isn’t as if there are no projects to be done at home — for many of us, there is work that is piling up rapidly, and for me, there are also many organizational, craft, and art projects that I have yet to get to doing. This time at home seems as if it would be the perfect time to do those things, yet I feel mostly emotionally paralyzed, and unable to turn away from the slow-crush apocalypse that is encroaching on my reality. I know that the world I once knew is not coming back, and I have no idea what to expect in its place.