A Year of Away

 

Not gone away. Locked away. Not locked down for all that time. If varies with the numbers. Or now the colors. I think we were green but now are yellow. I remember all the colors after 9/11. That was based on security threat level. These are based on number of new Covid-19 cases. Does anyone care anymore? Or is it like the Texan who bought two of my photographic giclee prints on canvas, "People will do what they will do." That is certainly true in Texas. Trouble is they also do it in New Mexico regardless of what our color is at the moment.

"One fish, two fish. Red fish, Blue fish," is that one of the Dr. Seuss books pulled by the family because of subliminal racism? And isn't racism in the eye of oppressed? And in this whole theme of lifting up the oppressed we seem to forget women still do not have equal rights, and in this year of Covid-19 they have lost the most jobs and their career paths to home school.

The number counting, the locking away of our seniors for their safety, of course, all began a year ago. I looked back at my posts here from that time. I seemed to have posted almost every day. What else to do? It was a high time before that time. I had paintings in the library, giclee prints of my photographic art at the Brewery and the Pub and Grub, paintings at the airport. And they were all closed. Even to me. 

Yesterday I got an email from a visitor to our state which at the moment does not encourage visitors but we do not seem to be able to stop that. Tourists will do whatever they want. And he wanted two of my photographic art. So happy his email included pictures. I had totally forgotten what was there. It has been a year - 365 days. And a new prospective dog client was referred to me. She had trouble finding my place. I had totally forgotten in a year how to tell people to find me. I even forgot about the 1942 Case Tractor installed a year ago as a marker for my studio. Did not mention it in those inadequate directions. Nobody has wanted to find me for a year. And frankly as the pandemic raged I didn't want to be found.

It wasn't just the purpose of the tractor which vanished from my mind but Facebook locked down my account for 24 hours. Facebook has been my window to display my art, negotiate sales, and communicate with my community. But Facebook, who allowed all those white insurrectionists to plot the overthrow of our government and the capture of our Capital thought I was not taking their community standards seriously. What color is that? When I tried to access my personal page the banner had been replaced with ugly orange.

I thought when the other guy lost and went to his golf course (actually he did that a lot even when president) the dark times were at last over. Well, accept for the pandemic, of course. I got the vaccine and for a moment the world seemed brighter, the future less locked away. But I think I was being rash. First I have to remember the tractor. It needs to be featured in those at least eight photos of my new AirB&B coming together in the apartment next door. Color me cautious.