In the early days of the COVID lockdowns, I found a water-damaged copy of Spillover by David Quammen on the ground outside our house. I began working with it as the bones of my own Book of 2020.
Here’s our 2020 calendar cut up into shreds, just like our schedules and plans.
My fear of the pandemic showed up in my early art, which was pretty strident and political. In retrospect, I didn’t know how to process what was happening.
Aw, come on!
Mad about it.
But as I wrestled with the reality of the situation and began to accept it, my art became more personal and experiential. I started working over those earlier entries and replacing them with my own perceptions, paradigm shifts, and key learnings I didn’t want to forget.
Starting to see something new emerging out of my pandemic time. This collage was made out of paintings from the first few days of the pandemic and leaves cut from my warped copy of Spillover.
The first half of the book evolved into exploring my pandemic experience. Looking back on it now, I see themes of isolation, illness, disorientation, and breakdown morphing into an understanding of the bigger picture.
Here I am accepting that pandemics have been and are always going to be part of life.
The second half of the book became essential notes to self, the things I’ve learned from COVID times and don’t want to forget.
So many great teachers out there. Much gratitude to Pema Chödrön, Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, and Nalandabodhi for the mindfulness practices and education.
Although COVID is still ripping through our lives (I’m currently waiting to see if I have it again), it feels like time for me to move on to new creative themes and forms. 2.5 years later, I’m ready to call this book a finished process artifact.
Yet, it also remains a primary resource for me. It’s a container for my pandemic experience, a reminder of COVID’s impact on my consciousness, and a roadmap for my life going forward.
Due to the nature of the materials used - cardboard, paper, gouache, ink, and glue - the book is fragile and changes every time I interact with it. It is constantly morphing, decaying, and renewing, just like COVID itself.
You can check out a detailed view of my Book of 2020 here, or see it in action below:
Materials: Found water-damaged copy of Spillover, Amazon delivery cardboard, collage images from Lapham’s Quarterly: Epidemic, our 2020 calendar, paper, gouache, ink, and glue.
Dimensions: 14x6x4 inches
Dates: March 2020 - September 2022