This week was still waiting to wake up from the bad dream that’s ever present. The full moon on Halloween was so perfect a reflection of the anticipation of the election. Forgetting politics and policy, I want the nightmare of the division and hate tearing this country apart to end. The vitriol and fear among the populist is like these dark clouds floating through the sky. I stand in the middle of the street at midnight watching the moon peeking through, the clouds washing over it, and not a sound in the area. The silence was eerie, no rustling leaves, no barking dogs, no car engines. Just a world of peace, and calm and possibilities, yet darkness and mystery swirling all around, hiding the light. When will we wake from this nightmare and be able to hug those we care about without having to mime through 6 feet of “dead” air space and a mask? Maybe we’ll have an answer to one question next week... the election, but I don’t think Covid is ready to rest it’s ugly head yet, and that nightmare continues.
November 10, 2020
Each evening, I have been photographing the view from the window in my room. The pandemic and the near-constant state of being cloistered indoors has me cherishing whatever little of the outside I have access to, and I find myself increasingly fascinated by the houses in the apartment complexes opposite with the light in their windows. They make wonderful patterns, every day a different one depending on who is home. It is an interesting and heartwarming activity to try to pick up bits and pieces of people's lives from what little I can see. I even feel something akin to friendship and camaraderie towards some of these homes, especially when it's really late at night and I see a house or two with its lights still on; it's like a murmur that reassures me that I'm not alone.
February 21, 2021