“Bottled,” a short film about grief by Christine Sloan Stoddard.
Mourning a great-uncle and a world before quarantine. “My real-life grief hadn’t vanished, but it felt lighter, more manageable. Then the shutdown hit …” To view the film, click here or on the link at the end of the artist’s statement. Artist’s Statement Sometimes art is an oracle. Two years after the death of my Uncle...
“The Beach and the Bells,” an essay by Jenny Gillespie Mason.
Zoom healers, a beach trip, and a campanile with canned chimes. “I can’t help but feel I’ve done something wrong in bringing them, that I put my own sanity before others’ health.” I stayed up too late on Zoom for Wendy’s fiftieth birthday dance party. I don’t remember the last time I danced like this with other...
“Pandemic Vices,” a memoir by Colleen Curran.
Aspirations become fixations. “I won’t die,” I tell him. “Not for a long, long time. Not until you’re ready.” Photographs by the author. It felt strange at first. Novel. To be alive in the time of a crisis, a pandemic, a real-life Day of the Dead, only different. This one a silent stalker, marked by a dry...
“Nothing Like a Pandemic,” by George Choundas.
Chess, mooning, candy shopping: A kid grows up in family isolation. “It’s like losing a tennis match to someone who calls her racket a thingie.” Day X I teach Claire chess. She’s nine. After example moves, and a few trial runs, we play a full game. I don’t give 100%. I don’t roll over, either....
“At Death’s Door,” an essay by Margie Patlak.
Looking back and clinging to life. “But I just don’t feel old! I’m not ready to die.” I was going to die. I had a brain tumor; it had grown back, I could feel it boring down into the roof of my mouth, and now I was going to die. I couldn’t accept it, couldn’t...
