Sunday, October 18, 2020

The Look of Covid

Well this is how a quick and dirty sketch panned out today. She’s kind of a sorry disheveled looking gal, and after I finished her, I wondered if she was me. She was not meant to be. Just a quick warm up practice for eyes, and hair. When I decided she looked like how I felt, I added her tear. 

I see her has having just woken up from a night of sporadic sleep where waking hours were spent worrying about the state of affairs, as well as shards of metal from the past that still dig deep. She buried them long ago, but they still cause pangs every now and then. 

She gets up and looks in the mirror, and this is what she sees. Her short trim hair is now an unholy mess in need of a cut. Her age is showing.  When did she last put make up on? Ah yes, that was it. It was for a zoom call with friends. She doesn’t bother anymore. 

She’s been out of a job for nine months now, not seen any family, or friends, and her life is confined to Zoom calls for work, and socializing. She knows she is not alone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety caused through uncertainty. 

What seemed like a shut down for a couple of weeks has turned into months with no end in sight. Her friends know they won’t be heading home for Thanksgiving, or Christmas. It was all suppose to be over by then. 

She pursues interests, explores new ones, and escapes to happy places, but is overall anxious about the future.  She is generally happy, but not today. 

The weather is glorious, but she is tired. The endless stream of political turmoil across both sides of the Atlantic weigh heavy on her. She has family and friends on both sides of the pond. Whatever the future holds, she sees no way to plan for it except be cautious. That isn’t her nature. 

This woman explores the world with eyes wide open, but they’ve been shut for her. A world led by arrogant, and ignorant politicians, denying the science of Covid, and its severity, climate change, and strife see to it that she is remaining in place.  

She awakes in dark hours with a sense of foreboding. Trapped by insomnia, her mind escapes hurtling along a highway to nowhere at a zillion miles per hour. The only destination is morning, and a sense of despair. Despair for the future, and not just hers. 

This is Adrenoverse — Today. 





No comments:

Post a Comment