Every morning to the background of my 3-year-old’s latest YouTube nursery rhyme compilation, my dogs scratching at the back door to go out/come in/go out again, and my 6-year old’s daily inquisition about matters of state that would put the White House press corps to shame, I always try to squeeze in one hot-ish cup of coffee and peruse the news on my phone before getting into the school and work routine. 

January 21 of this year was no different. While sipping my coffee, refilling milk, and fielding breakfast requests, I found myself going down a rabbit hole of news stories on COVID-19. I had been casually following the story all month, but on this day in particular, the U.S. announced its first Coronavirus case, a man in his thirties from Washington State. The news reports from China were scary, but at that point I was thinking it would play out in the States in the same way H1N1 did in 2009. I figured precautions would be taken, but in no way did I foresee that in a few short weeks I would be Googling how to make my own face mask so I could make pre-dawn supply runs to my local grocer where people were trampling over each other for milk, hand soap, and toilet paper. (No joke. According to one cashier I talked with, the store I frequent had to call the police to prevent an early morning stampede.)

From February on, everything feels like a blur. One minute we were celebrating my daughter’s third birthday with family and friends, and two weeks later, we were quarantined in our house, homeschooling our kids, rationing toilet paper, and coming to terms with the uncertainty of our current situation while trying to keep everyone safe, sane, and sanitized.

Even though I work remotely when we’re not in the middle of a global pandemic, my new role as teacher mommy, isolation from family and friends, job and money stress, the trepidation over not knowing what’s next, and the inability to go eat unlimited chips and salsa to deal with the trepidation over not knowing what’s next have all added to our challenges. Even though times have been tough for us, I feel lucky because we have food on the table, a roof over our heads, and more good days than bad. My kids have been troopers, and we’re getting through it as a family and as a community. I cannot say enough about my wonderful neighbors who have checked on us, who have dropped off extra milk and bountiful Easter baskets, and who are always ready to engage in a socially distanced chat that is basically just adults yelling across the street at each other. 

I recently wrote two blogs for work about how the emergency medical community is dealing with the Coronavirus. The content was heavy and the research was emotional, but it made me realize how important it is for us to share these stories and to document these moments. For me, art, whether it’s through writing, photography, or simply painting with my kids, has always been a way to express myself, get my feelings out, share my perspective, and share the perspective of others. It also serves as my own personal history book, a tangible body of work that I can revisit when I want to reflect on where I was during any period of my life.

As a writer, I have definitely been putting my pen to the paper during the past month. As a photographer, I had been talking a break from photojournalism work and focusing more on family and commercial photography. Last week, I took my camera with me when I went on a family walk, and it felt good to just shoot what was happening around me. I photographed people in pajamas walking dogs, rain-smeared chalk art that was somehow still vibrant, car-lined driveways and quiet streets, well-loved stuffed animals perched in windows, perfectly manicured yards next to piles of branches, and a few birds. Okay, a lot of birds. 

I also started taking requests for front porch portraits of families around me. I’m considered a non-essential business, so this is not something that I can or want to do for money, but I love the idea of capturing my neighbors and my community as we are, in this moment, being together while apart, doing the best we can. 

Maybe it’s inspiration from my children’s resiliency, my family’s spirited Zoom chats, or my neighbors’ kindness (or maybe it’s being able to take a break from teaching elementary math for a week), but I’ve felt a lot more hopeful lately, and I can’t help but feel it is related to my recent creative endeavors more than anything else. And if there were ever a time when we need more art and creativity, it’s now. 

I’m not saying it can fix everything, but if you’ve been feeling down or in a rut, pick up your guitar and strum for a bit during a break from work. Draw with chalk on the driveway with your kids in the evening. Write in your journal for a few minutes before bed. Take some pictures of nature when you’re on a walk. Paint along with a video on YouTube over lunch. Do anything that gets your creative wheels turning and see how you feel. It doesn’t have to take a long time and it can be as elaborate or as simple as you want. I promise you won’t regret it. 

(And if you feel like sharing, feel free to post pictures and videos of your art on my page!)

Stay well, friends!  We got this!