Isolation Landscapes

 Describing these collages is like interpreting a dream. I imagine placing myself in each environment and being very aware of my smallness against the vast, otherwise uninhabited, space. A sense of sublime awe rises from the pit of my stomach. I feel both elated and frightened by the rich beauty and overwhelming unfamiliarity of such a surreal, novel place. I am excited to traverse this new terrain but also scared, so I observe from the safety of my protective shelter, as if peeking between gaps in my fingers, until I get up the courage to explore.

 A similar yet less dramatic conflict has become present in quarantined life. The safety of home during a global pandemic feels like a forceful embrace. As news of Covid-19 rattles on day by day, I feel safe in my childhood home, surrounded by comforting mementos and the people that know me best. But not being able to leave the house for days is restrictive. I want so desperately to breathe fresh air and lay in the grass, but even short walks around the block leave me exhausted by anxiety. The thought of having to pass another person on the street forces me back to my secure fortress.

Great beauty and meaning can be found in sites of dynamic tension. In these imagined landscapes the scale of small shelters in relation to their immense settings spark a sense of wonderment that is only deepened by fear. In isolation I have greater appreciation for the world out my window. I lean over the sill, taking gulps of a passing breeze that is fragrant of new flowers. When I hear the soft rustle of leaves, I catch myself feeling envious of the trees. When it rains I watch the light change rapidly, smiling to myself thinking about how happy and strong all the plants must be. I picture them reaching up to the sun, growing everyday. Even though I am confined I am still growing too.