Watching the world go mad.

So, I think we’re far enough away from the madness of the Covid-19 pandemic to start making some observations about how it affected us, not just as a population but as individuals.

Didn’t it just turn everything you thought you knew about yourself on its fucking head? I remember watching the rising panic.

The TV flickers. We see Chinese people wrestled into the back of white pickup trucks–specially built to protect their drivers from rapidly spreading viruses. Covid skips through the map like a careless child, and Europe loses its grip on cases. Global deaths rocket out of control. Preppers in the States get irritable about restrictions and refuse to hide in their underground bunkers. The government’s emergency briefings tell us, “Don’t leave your home unless it’s absolutely necessary.” My employer mid-week announced we would be working from home until further notice.

What we initially think will last a few days sees weeks become a persistent feeling like someone driving a carpenter’s hammer through your forehead. This will change everything for the rest of our lives! Here’s where this project starts. It’s unlike my previous work. We couldn’t see loved ones, I wasn’t about to wander through crowds. We feared for the vulnerable people in our lives. We wore face masks on our one pleasurable trip out of the house to visit a restaurant so the economy doesn’t collapse from the foundations like a house in an earthquake. While exploring more of my neighbourhood in restricted increments, I started producing this work to make sense of how I felt about it all.

Over time, the panic disappeared through the noise floor. It was like the 1995 post-apocalyptic action classic Water World. After thrashing about in a submerged cage, breathless and terrified, we suddenly say, “HOLY SHIT! I CAN BREATHE DOWN HERE!”

The bad trip had broken the spell of earning money to buy pointless shit. We started leaving the house to do more than go to the shops. The guilty silver lining was we learned we didn’t have to buy happiness. We could have freedom, change jobs, and do something we love. And then, just like that, the universe gently released her grip on us–and with altered perspectives, we tentatively wonder back towards business as usual. This is where I stopped working on this project with the sincere hope that I never need to start it again. It’s not who I was before–nor who I am now. But it was the bridge I had to cross to make it safely from one to the other.