Doing Our Bit
I’m writing from my coronavirus-free bunker here at Villa Sionna on day 23 of our self-imposed quarantine. Kincaid returned from Ireland 20 days ago and we’d already been hunkering down since the 13th of March. Dallas recently instituted a stay-at-home order for all of April and almost immediately, extended it until the 20th of May, so here we are and here we’ll stay until further notice. Allen says the cases of COVID-19 continue to rise at Baylor, as does the death toll. He goes in every day and is as careful as he can possibly be while there. I hate it when he walks out the door every morning. It worries me to no end.
My kids have done a really good job of being productive and staying busy. Kincaid continues to try to teach, all the way in Ireland, through Zoom and is always industrious. He’s walked/run around the whole lake once and goes on 8-ish mile run/walks every day. They’ve barricaded the parking lots so the crowds of last weekend are a thing of the past, thank goodness. Arden makes something delicious for us to enjoy everyday and walks and reads and does her home yoga. Obie lives across the lake from us so I don’t know exactly how he spends his days, apart from reading a lot. They all participate in dinner prep and clean up. We make a helluva mess, too.
Miss Arden making pizza.
From top left, top row: Homemade sourdough bread, Ballymaloe-style, fried eggs and wilted spinach Rack of lamb, Oven-roasted Branzino Middle Row, from left: Alban Carney’s Chicken Curry and rice, Focaccia for fresh pesto and mozzarella sammies, Trussed and ready-to-roast chicken Bottom Row, from left: Crispy rice, made from using leftover rice. Waste not, want not! Pizza Normandy pear tart
Just for fun, and since we roasted a chicken this week, here’s a way to make use of the remains for another meal. Especially in this time of semi-scarcity that makes our lizard brains go crazy. And, anyway, waste not, want not. Ballymaloe’s Essential Chicken Stock or Broth Cooked or raw chicken carcasses. Sliced carrots and onions. Celery stalk if possible. Bay leaf, thyme, and parsley stalks. Cover with cold water and bring to a simmer very very gently for two hours. Strain, allow to sit and spoon off any fat if you want. If it’s an organic chicken, I eat the fat. Allow to get cold and keep in fridge for two days or freeze. Use as a broth with lots of chopped greens added and season with salt and pepper. Use for soups and stews. Don’t be scared to make it. It’s as easy as explained above. #Goodness
Allen’s dessert offering: “Ice” wine 😂 with an ice-cream sammie and a third and two Baby Ruths.
As I said before, when you’re an artist and you’ve been told to shelter-in-place, you kind of lean back and think, “Yeah, this is what I’ve been doing for decades. I’m all over this. What? No endless running of errands?? Vacation art school?! YES.“ So this has been no hardship on me, to do my part by staying home...
Since all this began, I’ve officially logged in 245,759 steps. I’m a math retard but I think that amounts to somewhere around 122 miles. I’m beginning to feel like Forrest Gump and wonder how far I’ll wind up going before all this is over! 😂
It is quite something to be out in the fresh air drinking in the springtime in Texas. Don’t you find it remarkable that the whole world can be involved in this madness, this virus, and all the while, the flowers and the bees and the seasons keep on doing what they do? I find it interesting that my love and longing for the world are always dependent on my absence from it. I miss interacting with people, face to face, more than anything. On the two trips out into the world to replenish our stores each week, I see my friends who work at the market and it makes me so happy to see them and even to say hello, face-to-face, six feet away, behind a mask, and get a quick catch-up that I feel giddy. It’s wondrous, I think, that even during these dark days there is happiness to be found in the smallest things.
Cherry Tree and Chimes
Lily Pulitzer said, “Despite the forecast, live like it’s spring.” When it all starts to feel too heavy, I go outside and see what spring is offering us today.” Wise words and I find myself doing the same thing every single day.
Villa Sionna in full bloom.
My own Columbine. A reminder of my heart’s home, Colorado.
This Moneywort brings me joy!
We’ve been really lucky to have not been sick, at least, yet and hopefully never. But beyond us, there are really hard, painful and difficult things happening to a lot of people around the world. That, to me, has been terrifying and heart wrenching. The death tolls in New York and elsewhere, every day are higher and higher.
There’s always misery in the world, isn’t there? It’s never easy to stomach and hard to helplessly look on. And, what I’ve noticed about myself in times like this is my mind wants to have answers for everything. It wants to have a take on things to give myself comfort.
This moment in our lives is like when you slip on black ice in a parking lot. The split second before you’re about to hit the ground—that’s really where are you are out of control, when the pavement is rushing up. I think we are in that moment, now. I try to pretend I can stop time and have a take on hitting the pavement or imagine being mindful as I hit the pavement but there are too many unknowns and I just can’t.
So that makes it hard, in the face of your own anxiety, to keep up with the news each day. So much bad news is hard to accept. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel, only fog as far as you can see.
What a hard and scary and depressing time. Anxiety everywhere. Every time I see a honey bee buzzing around in my garden, unaware of what’s going on in the larger world, I wish I could trade places with him.
But, this is when the world needs our eyes and ears and mind. This has never happened before, in most of our lifetimes. Not since the 1918 flu pandemic which claimed my grandfather’s eldest sister, Irene.
We are, and especially our children are, the generation who are going to have to help fix this, make sense of it, and recover afterwards. What art, music, poetry might be invented to describe an event like this? Through these blogs, I’m keeping notes on how my heart and mind is reacting. Fifty years from now, people the age of my children won’t believe this ever happened. Or will do the young person’s eye roll we all do when someone tells us something crazy that happened before we were born.
What will convince that future kid is what we were able to write or paint/create about this. And what you’re able to create will depend on how much sharp attention you’re paying right now. And what records you keep. Also, how open you are able to keep your heart.
I remember when I was at TCU, our painting professor would encourage us to paint our own Guernica. Guernica is Pablo Picasso’s 1937 masterpiece that is regarded by critics as one of the most moving and powerful anti-war paintings in history. No small charge, that. So I’m always looking for a “Guernica” to create.
I’ve found it very helpful to practice living in the “Now” rather than thinking too far ahead. It only overwhelms. So, I’m trying to practice feeling something like, “Ah, so this is happening now. So, this too is part of life on earth.” Everything is always changing. That change is the only thing we can depend on.
One of my favorite spiritual teachers, Alan Watts, once said, “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it. Move with it and join the dance.”
Work in progress. Something to do with inner wisdom.
The painting above is me trying that dance. I have no idea where she’ll go or wind up but I’m enjoying the tune, even though I have two left feet. 💃🏻👩🏻🎨
The thing is, we get lulled into a false sense of security and think things will go on as they always have, forever. It’s only when we expect that things will never change that we are taken by surprise. We always expect things to stay the same no matter how well we know better.
I don’t mean to come off sounding preachy. I’m just trying to say that the world is like a sleeping giant that we all live on. Now and then, that giant wakes up and it’s terrifying. Sometimes, it wakes up and someone we love, has a stroke and dies. Or, someone breaks our heart. Or, there’s a pandemic. But, this is far from the first time that Giant has come awake. He/she has been doing it since the beginning of time and will never stop doing it. Just ask the dinosaurs.
At least there have been writers and painters who observed it and later, made some sort of sense of it. Or at least, bore witness to it. How grateful we all are for Pliny the Younger, whose ancient voice reaches out from the past to tell us about Mount Vesuvius, literally blowing its top on August 24, 79 AD! Can you imagine that wake up call?
I’m making the case for art. My friend Deirdre said, “I feel there is a wonderful portal for art right now ~ we need that creative healing.” How simply put.
A favorite artist, David Hockney, said, "I went on drawing the winter trees that eventually burst into blossom. This is the stage we are right now. Meanwhile the virus is going mad, and many people said my drawings were a great respite from what was going on...the source of art is love...I love life." Bravo, David. We too, love our Life.
It’s good for the world for an artist to bear witness and it’s good for the artist. Especially, if she can bear witness with love and humor, despite it all. It’s the job of an artist, after all, to show us who we are. All of this to say, there still work to be done and now more than ever. I have been so inspired by stories of wonderful people making homemade masks which are becoming increasingly important for all of us non-essential worker-types to have. And how GM and Ford, I believe it is, have shut down car production in order to retool and make parts for ventilators, in record time! And, just tonight, Arden told me that the Statler Hotel is opening itself up and offering rooms to physicians so they don’t have to go home and possibly expose their families. With the room comes boxed lunches and dinners. That is us at our best.
Also, people’s sense of humor has come out in full force through this dreadful patch and I am in love with some of the results of their outrageous and fertile imaginations. From the sublime all the way down to the ridiculous. We need it all.
My boys.
I appreciate the generosity, kindness and wisdom that I have come across and read about recently. It inspires me and gives me comfort. Someday soon, things will be back to some sort of normal and it will be easier to be happy again. I believe this and I hope it for all of us. I can’t wait to see all of my loved ones and friends in person and to give you all a hug and celebrate what we’ve all come through. Until then, celebrate life and stay connected. Thank goodness for our multiple platforms of virtual connections.
I wish you all the best during this crazy time. May you stay well and healthy. You’re all in my heart. ❤️
Having a wee dram before din din.
Sister Felicity Immaculata 😂
