There is nothing greyer than a northern November, before it snows. And then, when the dark days and long nights of November stretch into December, and the sun feels like it's on permanent holiday in Patagonia, so far away that it's forgotten us entirely, I'm not the only one who has trouble. I don't suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder in a clinical way, but it's a rare person living this far north who isn't affected at all by the lack of light, the wan sky, and the monochromatic dullness of the city and the bare trees. And that's in a "normal" year: in 2020, these factors are combined with the isolation and fatigue of the pandemic, dread rather than anticipation of the holidays, and the knowledge that we're only at the beginning of what's sure to be a long winter.
While it's still relatively easy to walk, I'm trying to get outside every day, and I'm also doing a daily online program of stretching workouts, because I know that moving my body helps my mental as well as physical health. We cook a lot and eat well, and although we're often awake for hours in the night, we eventually go back to sleep, so I don't feel physically tired. Our feline companion is a delight and a comfort. I'm quite busy. But I admit: I'm very sick of living this way.
As I wrote a while ago, color helps. I'm trying to wear brighter colors, and to get out our most colorful ceramics and textiles for our home. We don't plan to put up a Christmas tree, because our houseplants have taken up all the room we've got, but there are little lights and a few ornaments on the rubber plant-that-is-now-a-tree, lights outside our terrace, lights on an evergreen garland above the bookshelves.
And I've been drawing and painting. I was one of those kids who could happily spend hours arranging her giant box of crayons, and even now, just opening my box of watercolors gives me a little rush of delight. I hope I never lose that pleasure at the sight of an array of colors, and the endless possibilities they represent. The other day I got a delivery of a set of colored tissue papers, maybe for gift wrapping, maybe for collage: it cost something like $7, and looks to me like a world of pleasure. I also sorted through a bunch of old origami paper, pulling out a whole set of blue shades to make a ten-pointed folded star (more on that in a subsequent post). You don't have to be an artist to incorporate some "color therapy" into your day: it can be as simple as spending a half hour scribbling with colored pencils, making abstract patterns with watercolors, sorting your lipsticks or eyeshadows by shade, or your neckties; organizing your closet, your yarn, your table linens or towels. You have my solemn guarantee that it will make you feel better.
We're all having to dig deep right now, and many of us are struggling with loss as well as anxiety and uncertainty. The holidays are going to be a mixed bag -- a break in the usual routine, perhaps, but nothing like the holidays we normally share with family and friends. What's the hardest for you, and what's helping? Let's tell each other.
((((((Beth))))))
Your colors are beautiful!
Posted by: Pascale Parinda | December 16, 2020 at 09:43 PM
Oh, these colors are balm to my eye and my heart.
Posted by: Rachel Barenblat | December 19, 2020 at 09:55 AM
Love these! I've got my watercolors spread out on my table too but I don't do more than messing about with them yet. I do have a watercolor book on the way, illustrations you can color in. Enchanted Forest I think. And have you seen how paint by number is huge now? I have one coming from China with acrylics. I'm free of ambition but I have always loved color too. I am working on fixing my web sites.
We feel very very lucky because we were not able to travel before the pandemic because of elder care, for us to go anywhere requires a medical person, a home care aide for cooking and persnickety cat care! So our life is only somewhat more locked down, no shopping, no tai chi class. I highly recommend tai chi for everything.
I write this in a high ceiling room with four windows and a skylight and everything is sunny, blue and white because of the snow. We skied for the first time yesterday.
We're almost to the equinox and I figure we're on the way up at that point, I like to watch the days get longer. My frogs wake up mid April.
Yanno, you could do a great business in water color paint by number for those of us who don't have your drawing skills.
Posted by: Sharyn | December 19, 2020 at 10:17 AM
I recommend listening to Obama's new book! He reads it himself.
Posted by: Sharyn | December 19, 2020 at 10:46 AM
VR's weekly art group has of course failed to meet during 2020 and she came up with an idea intended to stir up members' under-used graphic skills. That each should create a Christmas card and that the original be despatched by snail-mail to a designated member; also that a scan of this card be emailed to me for posting somewhere on the web. As it was I had a blog (Tone Deaf renewed) which I had devised as a test site for New Blogger familiarisation and which wasn't doing very much. The display is now complete and can be seen at:
https://ldptonedeaf2.blogspot.com/
I even mobilised sufficient temerity to make my own contribution. Alas for your paean celebrating the benefits of colour, this is an area in which I have zero talent and I stuck to b&w.
Singing sustains me, notably the deceptively simple Quilter setting of Weep You No More Sad Mountains. For me it falls into the category I have christened Carefully Articulated Legato.
I liked your reference to putting your crayons into what I presume to be chromatic order. From such order bursts forth the unfettered force of imagination - as you show. Blessings.
Posted by: Roderick Robinson | December 20, 2020 at 04:58 AM