Oil on Panel April 2020 12 x 18 inches

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Corona Journal Entry Jumped into work this morning. Productive. I could not remember what day it was when I headed out to paint at 5:45, other than the day after Earth Day. It was cold and raw as it gets. I still hadn’t warmed up from my afternoon bike ride, but I had to/really wanted to paint. Expected magical light. Went off the hard path into the mud. Low tide made this angle possible. Frozen to the bone but happy. It’s been a cold and stormy April. A strange one of course. Still here comes Spring - just about to pop. I feel some guilt for being in such a wonderful place with the ability to run out with my field easel. No restrictions on plein air painting. No conflicting social obligations. News from MA not good. Spike of deaths. Reports of post-Covid health care workers going back to work yet we don’t know if this virus can reinfect the same person. Death toll intense in nursing homes and poor communities. How do I make sense of my good fortune? Nieces and nephews received my shipments of chalk or paints for the kids (driveway or no driveway). Giant boxes of chalk that they can distribute to neighborhood friends with whom they are not allowed to play. I loved the days of chalk drawings with my children. Distant but crystal clear memory where so many other experiences have faded. There is joy like that for the children of today, for the lucky ones.