Exactly Two Years

In the time of the pandemic, there have been milestones, markers, of the passage of time. Time has been variable, sometimes feeling like an eternity and sometimes moments seeming to disappear when they'd barely begun.

Today was another of those markers.

The first big marker of event time passage was a year ago. In March 2021, I was one of the interpreters for the Oregon Poetry Out Loud competition. The event itself was virtual, but the host and coordinator (the amazing Deb Vaughn) and the two interpreters were live in a recording studio. We were masked until the recording began, and we were spaced about twelve feet from each other. The second interpreter has been in my pandemic pod since the beginning, still is, and we work and write together. The time marker of that event is that Poetry Out Loud had been the last live event, in-person, that I'd interpreted in March 2020. I had been preparing and rehearsing to interpret a play - which was canceled. But Poetry Out Loud, regionals, was the last in-person event. So Poetry Out Loud was both a last and a first.

Tonight I interpreted a Portland Community College Theatre Arts production, Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. This is another marker of a sorts in pandemic terms. While TMLMBGB is a very different production than the one in March 2020 (Our Town) - I was at PCC exactly two years ago today, when theatre started shutting down, when stay at home orders were beginning to be issued.

I had gone to PCC on March 12, 2020, to work with an interpreting team - watching them to a sign-through, practice run - to be followed by feedback session and discussion about the show, their interpretations. When we arrived, about an hour before the show was to go live, we went backstage and found the director talking to the cast and crew, in costumes, standing in a large circle on the stage set and ready for act one. The director was telling them that the college had made the decision to close the school and the production was canceled immediately. There were tears. Lots of tears. And confusion. 

One of the interpreters and I left after a while, after the second interpreter showed up late and then left after learning about the closure. The other two of us walked to the parking lot. I received an email notice of a cancelation of another play at another theater. We stood at my car, talking about the virus, the state of things - it wasn't yet being called a pandemic (I don't think). I received another email with a "hold" on a production (which would be canceled two weeks later) and then another.

The other interpreter and I decided to drive to the coast. To get away for a few hours (we're lucky we live close) and think and breathe fresh air. We did.

As the days went by things changed quickly. More pauses and postponements from those who were hopeful. Cancellations from some who were near the end of runs or couldn't extend. One by one by one things fell away as the COVID-19 numbers increased.

Then, today, exactly two years to the day, I was on the (volunteer) interpreting team for this PCC production. It seemed fitting to be here doing this play at this time. It is not the first PCC play on Zoom that I've interpreted since the pandemic begun - and yes, they have all been pro bono. Keeping the access alive and supporting the creative and innovative and passionate work of theater that PCC has continued throughout this time. 

This is a photo of the setup the other interpreter and I used for tonight's interpreting set-up. I don't think we're done with this pandemic; or, more accurately, the pandemic is not done with us - the virus is not done. I would love to be wrong, but numbers around the globe are growing in the BA2 variant. And I, for one, do not want to get the virus. I have genetic conditions and a prior health situation which put me at risk for severe illness and significant complications - so I do not want to get it at all. Simply "surviving the virus" is not an option, not a risk I want to take.a

So - I may be doing more of this. Or less of this. I have to see what's ahead, how the numbers actually go and not just the wishful thinking of the wealthy, young, healthy, White people who are wishing it was already gone, so they are "acting as if."

Exactly two years ago today I know where I was. A vivid memory. And what a pleasure and a full circle to be working with the same theatre group. Their hearts are warm and glowing and their passions are clear and directed. Thank you for letting us be a part of your circle - in 2020 and now and in the future.

Still Here. Don't Know What to Say.

 It's been over four months since I've put anything here. 

Which is not the same as not writing for four months. I've been writing. A lot. I've been in workshops and working on book projects and experimenting with writing essays and different styles of memoir pieces and I even took a class on making an illustrated manuscript (page or book).

But I haven't written here.

How much "woe is me" and "the pandemic is hard" and "life is great/sucks/changes" writing can I produce and can anyone read?

The truth is that I could write a lot of that. Potentially. That is not what I've been writing and not what I wanted to put here.

So. Nothing was put here.

And I'm thinking again - what is this space? What should go here? What do I want it to be?

I don't know right now.

I am writing. I am doing some theater again - baby steps to distanced outdoor theater and I've been doing a little virtual theater (staged readings mostly; some audio plays/dramas). And writing. And working. A couple of big theater projects in the works - one of which is being recorded tomorrow. 

In a time of transition and some people are going to quickly, in my opinion. (And the opinion of several people I know.) Let's open a bit, see what happens. If the numbers don't spike, then let's go a little more. But let's not just throw all caution to the wind and jump into the mosh pit. Please. Too late. Okay, then I'll continue to be a little cautious while we see what happens.

I will also continue to think what I would like this space to be.

For now, here is a sample I made of an illustrated letter.

New Year(ish)

What is new right now is that the year is 2021. There is not much else, if anything, that has changed. I've seen comments about this actually being 2020 v.2 and such and it does feel kind of like that. Yes.

Some of us are waiting for January 21st for the New Year to begin. This week will be getting the final step of the electoral votes finally confirmed and done - and there are some Republicans who are vowing to vote against that, even though

Except that I missed posting anything here during December 2020. I intended to post more. The pandemic hit. I intended to write something to share at least once a month - which I did, until December.

What is not new is that the COVID-19 pandemic still rages. It rages now more than it did three months ago. The surge is bad. The experts say there is another surge coming, which will be worse. For those of us who believe the science, who are following the data, we know that is true. It is. It's simple - if you believe and follow the data. Stay home, wear your mask, keep your distance.

What is not new is that the outgoing President still claims to be the victim of a fraudulent election and there are a few clinger-on Republicans supporting his claims. One thing which astounds me about that is, don't they understand that if they claim fraudulent election, are they not also calling into question their own positions? Are they not also saying that all election results are invalid, which means theirs, as well? It is so ridiculous and yet it is also a little horrifying and even frightening, that there are so many people who are blindly following this 

I did not drop in here to write about politics, yet I can't or don't want to let it be totally ignored. There is a lot of good information out there from people far better qualified and better armed with facts to write about what is happening politically, so I will leave it to them. And I will read what they write, as well as follow reliable news sources. 

I stopped by here and noticed I had skipped a month of posting. Not skipped a month of writing, though. I actually wrote a lot in December, partially thanks to Ariel Gore's Literary Kitchen and the wonderful, amazing, talented and supportive writers she brings together in writing classes, workshops, groups. As a matter of fact, I'm in a manuscript revision workshop which just started on Friday - which is going to be helpful and generative and I should have really good progress on a book project in three months!

So - Happy New Year and lets look forward to a new President and Vice President and lets get the mess of the last four years cleaned up (it's more than that, I know, absolutely) and lets also keep the anti-racism efforts going and growing.

Again: Stay home, wear your mask, keep your distance. The pandemic is not yet done with us.

And keep creating! Creativity is what will get us through. 

Bodies Breathing Heartbeats

A friend posted a question in Facebook, which triggered me to think about what things I'm not doing during the pandemic. I made a list of what I am doing - what I have done since the day first things (in my corner of the world) started being canceled, restricted, closed down: March 13, 2020.

If you know me in 3-D world, you know that I am an introvert. And a shy introvert, at that. I only put that here for those who don't know, because it is relevant to what I am about to say.

One of the things I miss most is being in the room with other creative people. Theatre people; artist people; writer people. As soon as the "stay home, stay safe" order came out and theatrical performances were postponed then canceled, I signed up for a few writing workshops. Online writing workshops, because that was - and is - what's available. 

I love my online writing workshops. I have worked with some amazing facilitators and writers online, through Ariel Gore's Literary Kitchen and through Corporeal Writing. My writing workshops with Ariel are almost entirely online all the time, with an occasional in-person class when she's in town. But my workshops with Corporeal Writing have been 90% in real space, breathing together, writing together, sharing heartbeats in real time and place. It's been a perfect mix for me. But since mid-March 2020, all of my writing community is online. 

I am grateful for the ability and opportunity to continue connections, continue mentoring and facilitation, playing with new kinds of writing, exploring words together while apart.

But one this I miss the most right now is the ability to be in the room together as we create, individually and collectively. Because I also think that anytime a group of creative people come together to share art making in real time and space, we are also creating community, some of which may be temporary for that specific time and some of which may carry over into our lives. 

And, for me, I like some heart breathing bodies together time, too. 

I miss being bodies and hands and hearts in the same space for creative adventures.

But, by being safe, keeping distance now, wearing masks/face coverings, good hygiene, limiting bodies together in space time, we can come together later. In real time. In real space. And breathe words together.

I miss my 3-D writing people time.

Photos from the Transmutation Book Making writing workshop through Corporeal Writing, with Ruth Patience Bryant and Domi Shoemaker. 

Waiting. Watching. Breathing.

Belmont Inn, Portland OR - art on boarded windows.

photo by Dot. May 2020

So much and nothing to say. As life continues and the world continues to turn and yet we are pausing - some of us - we are watching - some of us - we are present - some of us. And yet we are holding back, holding on, waiting, wondering: where is it safe to go? who is safe and who is not? how long before people feel safe? before I feel safe?

Safety has a new measure.

Safety being a measurement after 60 - 80 % of the people have had the virus and have antibodies. Herd immunity. Like cattle, like livestock, measure us in percentage of illness survival.

How do we quantify the percentage of dead? How many dead before it's safe to return?

What are we returning to? More accurately, what are we phasing in and will we know if it's working before it's too late? I mean, pretty much everyone agrees that phasing in, that reopening, is going to increase the number of infected and the numbers who become critical and yet we must move forward. So how do we count the infected? those hospitalized and some in ICU? the dead?

So much more to say and yet, nothing. Nothing which hasn't be already said.

This pandemic and our response to it is not about me or you. It is about Us. This is an Us situation. Not an Us versus Them. Everything which I do has the potential to affect You - your health, your family's health, your neighbor's health, which affects your health and my health and my family's health.

I know this is hard for the "have it your way" culture this nation has worked hard to build. I also know that this pandemic calls for respect and cooperation and acceptance of shared responsibility.

I also know that we are in this pandemic together, absolutely, and that does not mean that everyone is being treated equally or affected equally. Repeated stories have shown that some groups of people are suffering more than others - and I don't mean that in terms of who gets sick or in ICU. The stories are there, if you look. Racism and classism are present in how people and communities are affected.

I live in the last county in Oregon to enter into Phase I or reopening; the projected date is June 12th, if all goes well.

Waiting. Watching. Breathing.

Melting Calendars and Flattening the Curve

We've just been given the warning that we are on the brink of a "stay home" order from the Governor and the Mayor and the County Chair. We are currently under a "strict social distancing" order and that was upgraded earlier today (Friday, March 20, 2020), with the details to be released next Monday.

My body has many words inside, my head and hands haven't yet found the words to move them onto the page - virtual and paper, or in the form of pictures. Hybrids.

Every day, several times every day, the news changes.

We are so far into this pandemic now that I check not only the date of an article or an announcement, but also the time. Something which was written or announced two days ago is old news. If it was yesterday, there is probably an update, but there may or may not be major changes. Then double check that, even if it was earlier today, there is not something new.

Early on Friday I received what I am jokingly calling my "hall pass." Jokingly because this is all very real and it also feel unreal. Surreal. My "hall pass" is an official government paper from my work, which in the case of a curfew or actual "shelter in place"/lock down, identifies me as essential emergency personnel so that I can drive to work when we're supposed to be staying home. I have my official document and my work badge and it allows me to be on the streets and not be arrested or get a ticket. Surreal.

My very full calendar of theater and meetings about theater has emptied, leaving my my "essential emergency personnel" work and a few reminders. Even my provider appointments were cancelled or rescheduled, one person is doing phone or video calls. I had three shows and one event cancel in two days - and just realized that was only one very long week ago. Shows dropping off one by one - some I was scheduled to interpret, some I was coordinating, some I was consulting. A few more went away this week. There are three or four which have not yet cancelled but I expect they will - or be postponed. One show I was involved with is postponed until next fall; another show I was going to watch (not work) is postponed indefinitely. Theater is one of my passions and my fuel and a creative outlet - now gone.

So when Ariel Gore posted that she was doing a Social Isolation Writing Intensive online, I signed up. I'd just lost a bunch of work and, although my calendar has opened up, the financial hit won't start until 30 - 45 days. So I did it. I clicked register and paid. And I'm writing.

And wondering what the next day or the next few hours will bring.

I am not in a panic. I am aware. I am keeping anxiety at bay. I don't know how long this minimization of activity will last and when or how we will return to normal; and I am completely aware that "normal" is relative and life will be different - but I don't know how.

A time of upheaval. Changes many of us didn't predict or couldn't predict, but it's here. Now. Not some dystopian future. Now.

Wait. Listen. Be Aware.

In the words of the Oregon Governor, "stay home and stay well and save lives."