Sunday, March 29, 2020

Sketching My Way through a Week of Pandemic

In early March, when I first signed up for an online journaling class offered by Vonda Drees and the Grunewald Guild, I had no idea how much life would change in the next few weeks.  I had no idea how much I would need this class.

I knew it had the potential to be life changing.  I took a journaling class with Vonda at the end of 2018, and it was one of the highlights of my year, perhaps of the decade.

We are reading Cynthia Bourgeault's Mystical Hope:  Trusting in the Mercy of God.  We have 3 markers in shades of gray, and a marker color that brings us joy.  I chose lilac.  Here's the first sketch I made from a quote in the book that talks about life seeming to spiral downward--little did I know how quickly it would spiral downward during the week as pandemic cases spiraled out of control:



The next day, this quote from chapter 1 leapt out at me:  "Must we be whiplashed incessantly between joy and sorrow, expectation and disappointment?"  I have spent must of my life in this kind of whiplash.



As the past week has progressed, I have found it more and more difficult to sleep.  I fall asleep quickly, but my brain usually jolts me awake between 12:30 and 2:00 a.m., and most nights I don't fall back asleep.  I've taken to sketching as a way of leaving the various sites that bring me news and stress, as a way of attending to any activity that might bring me relief--or even joy.

In this quote, I tried to create a sketch that looked like weaving.  I was only partially successful:




On Friday, we had an online session where we talked about our favorite sketch.  I chose this one:




I talked about how I tried to sketch the fingers of God, but I thought they looked like odd fingers.  I liked the negative space, which looks like flames to me.  In the end, I loved the sketch.  I also realized how many of my concerns and anxieties take place in the near or far future, not the now.  I've known that before, but it's sobering to make a list and confront this truth again.

I wasn't as sure about Friday's sketch:


Saturday's sketch might be my favorite thus far.  I started it in the morning and finished it in the afternoon:



I love the mystical hope that swirls across and through the sketch.  I like the dots and dashes that I made with a variety of pens.

I plan to keep trying to sketch each day.  It's become a practice that's even more vitally important in these days of pandemic.

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