Another Sunday, these posts seem to be coming a bit of a ritual. I have a lot of ‘nice posts’ I should be writing, but my mind won’t focus on those at the moment so you have another of these.
Groundhog Day has turned into Groundhog week or month. It’s great when the sun is shining, endless hours of rural walks and finding new places within my ‘zone’. I don’t tend to go on the ‘mountain walk’ because that’s where the majority of people seem to walk. You have to do that whole awkward thing of trying to move out of the way, especially if a car is coming. I’m reminded of the Frogger game from back in the day.
If anything this is turning me more antisocial than I was before, and I didn’t think that was possible. I’ve even stepped back from the majority of zoom events. I’m just not in the right mindset, it’s hard to focus, I’m sure you know what I mean.
The hardware stores are due to open tomorrow and the barricades that have been put up in preparation are like something you’d see at a rock festival. The headline acts on this occasion being tins of paint and garden plants. I can see there being some kind of black market for these items, if there isn’t already. I’m grateful that I don’t like shopping. I will not be in that queue. I will also not be flocking to Penneys when it reopens.
The paintings are pouring out of me, they aren’t perfect, they aren’t meant to be, but they are a couple of hours of solace away from the life. I’m painting so much I’m painting over other paintings because I’ve run out of canvas. As I paint I can hear the blackbird singing outside my window, it keeps me grounded, but then the dulcet tones of the Covid advert comes through the floor boards. It’s almost like background noise at this stage, like a government form of Dua Lipa with her new rules.
There’s talk of when we travel again, when things get back to normal, etc. etc. What is normal anyway? Would you feel safe travelling again? I wouldn’t – well not for the foreseeable future.
We’ll see what happens from here. Happy Sunday.