Storytime in Quarantine
CAUTION: I swear a bunch, and I have a lot to say today.
So here is a recap of my week:
Got home from school - literally packed up everything I could get my hands on. Pretty sure my advisor was annoyed because I kept sending him a million messages, asking for tools I could take home.
Set up my studio - pretty much took over the whole basement, when my parents told me I could have this one storage room.
Made a photo booth for my artwork with some crappy lamps, a shower rod, and some translucent paper.
Started some paintings - freehand spray painting and stenciling. (see below)
Learned some new stuff on Photoshop and Illustrator
Started chatting and collabing with artists.
In the process of redesigning my senior thesis project - had to pivot from my original idea that was so contingent on me being able to use the laser cutter and CNC machines and welding equipment.
Ordered and brought home tons of materials to play around with.
AND… started Instagram live shit.
Caught in the act in my parent’s backyard :)
Looking back, I did A LOT, and to be honest, I’m still in shock. It really hit me when one of my professors asked me a few days ago to join one of his classes in Google Meet to talk to my peers about how to stay positive and keep creating in this trying time. Until this point, I was just doing my thing, working hard as always. But I now realize how important it is for me to share what’s been going through my head.
I’ve always been a hard-ass, ever since I was a little kid. I am someone who never backs down, and will give everything they’ve got to something they care about. I’ve also been through the shits; I struggled with my mental health in high school, and suffered through at least one major injury or sickness or devastating life event per semester in college. It has always felt like something was in the way of me reaching my full potential, and as a try-hard who wants to be the best, that feeling never seems to go away.
So when it was announced that my last semester of college would be canceled due to government-enforced quarantine, I thought to myself, “Here we go again! Back to the shitshow!” I had just landed in D.C. for my spring break. I felt like crap, but being my last spring break, I felt determined to make the best of it. I was tired of feeling down and listening to the negativity surrounding me. I still had my friends, so we did our best and actually had a blast, visiting museums and chilling out at the AirBNB, all with a bottle of Purell in hand at all times.
Then it was time to come back to school and pack up all my shit. Again, I felt like shit. I lost access to all the materials and tools I could ever need for my artwork, my independence (I had to go back to live with my family), and, worst of all, I lost my friends, who were now miles and miles away from me all over the world.
College is a very tough environment to live in; not only do you have academic responsibilities, but you also have responsibilities to clubs, teams, and maybe a job, AND you can’t run away because you (usually) live in the place where it all happens. Without my friends, professors included, I would not have made it through to this point. And now they were gone.
But so was the high-pressure environment. So were my on-campus job, extracurriculars, the hours I had to put into building a set for the Wheaton production of Julius Caesar. For years, I struggled to be creative and live my passions, but my commitments to everything on campus plus the shitty injuries and the anxiety caused by bad circumstances all forced me to put these things on hold. And it was all gone in an instant. KA-POW! WOOSH! POP! ZOOM! Fucking gone. AND I could still get a hold of my friends via Facetime or whatever. AND I was healthy, no broken bones or anything.
Once I realized all of this, my brain kind of exploded. The good kind of explosion though, like when confetti cannons go off. I was so relieved that I spent my first day back at home sleeping. (a very rare occurrence) The next day came, and I was off to the races. I started putting more time into my art page on Instagram, setting up a new studio space with what I had brought home, and doing things I’ve always wanted to do.
And here we are, one week and 18 Instagram posts later. Expect another bajillion in the next month. But why should any of this matter to you? Stay tuned for Pt. 2!