Coronavirus19 Diary - A Year in the Life

 It was the day before the 1st anniversary of the Illinois covid lockdown and I am in a chair at a Walgreens in Chicago's loop pulling up the sleeve of my tee shirt to receive the first shot of the Moderna vaccine. A year that proved my resiliency, that proved to myself, once again, my ability to move through the obstacles that life and fortune, good and bad, confront me with. 

I feel both hope and empowerment. I see the promise that we will move past this crisis and we, as a global society, will be able to confront the problems this pandemic has left in it's wake. Exacerbated wealth and racial inequality, job and business loss, desperation and anger. The anger searches for a target, a place to focus. In the early days of AIDs I remember friends speaking of anger, yet not knowing where to direct it. 

I understand it, I sympathize, yet I try not to carry it with me. From a glass half full perspective I attempt to turn anger into positive action. At work I attempt to assure people that we will soon be through this. That we will soon be able to put this painful, sad and debilitating moment in history behind us and move towards a future, changed from what we may have envisioned but bright with the possibilities of lessons learned.

Coronavirus19 Diary - A Field Trip

I try to reman patient. Chicago's Art Institute, a cultural and civic treasure that has been shut, opened, shut and now open again, offers an opportunity to spend a few hours renewing one's soul. Needing a field trip, a break from our current abnormal routine, I and my ex roommate from my San Francisco days masked up and bused downtown to spend some time in it's art and antiquity filled galleries. 

In the modern wing a roomful of works by Rothko, an artist I enjoy in spite of my better judgement, awaited us. Two were borrowed from private collections. I always relish the chance to see privately owned pieces, usually hid from public eyes on the walls of wealthy collectors. The soft, mottled blocks of color soothed me, transporting me to a place distant from the still strife filled times we are living through. We walked through a room of Warhols and strolled past Hoffmans and Lichtensteins. 

We moved to the gallery of ancient Roman artifacts. Inspecting a heroic sculpture depicting Hercules we discussed whether, in a pre steroid era, there were men that thickly muscled, or if the sculptor had taken the physique of an athlete or hard laborer and exaggerated the proportions to mythic levels. I have also wondered this about the caryatids adorning the Baroque buildings that line the streets of cities like Vienna and Prague. Although if the present day men we sometimes saw in Prague are any indication, they may have been sculpted from real life. 

We roamed through the museums awe inspiring Impressionist collection stopping for a moment in a gallery focusing on the work and times of Toulouse Lautrec. 

We descended the marble grand staircase and exited through the museum's massive glass doors. Bright sun and cool temperatures greeted us as we headed down the front stairs past the two iconic lion sculptures that flank them and walked down Michigan Avenue. A young man in a form fitting Spiderman costume crossed in front of us on his way into Millennium Park and for a moment, despite the masks and weariness of mitigations, I could envision the beginning of an eventual return to normal.