Items
Date is exactly
2020-04-27
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2020-04-27
Birthday During Quarantine
This is my now fiancé, who wasn't too keen about my taking their picture, but this was a huge milestone in her life! We celebrated her 21st birthday during quarantine. Of course, I had to bring her to the ABC store so we could get stuff for margaritas. After the store, we went home to play a Jane Austen theme board game with her parents. She had told me that one of the easiest things about wearing a mask and wanting to wear make-up, is that she only had to do her eyes since everything else was going to be covered up anyways. -
2020-04-27
Some things will never be the same
A comic strip about Covid-19 -
2020-04-27
What to Know About the COVID-19 Antibody Test
A blog post from Banner Health about the antibody test available for Covid-19. -
2020-04-27
Banner Health expands COVID-19 testing in Arizona and Colorado
A press release from Banner Health announcing that is has opened three new COVID-19 drive-thru collection sites this week and added lanes to its original sites, expanding capacity from 4,000 appointments per week to 13,500. -
2020-04-27
Pandemic Street Art: Cross-country Corona Chalk Project
A group of chalk artists connected remotely to create a piece of chalk art to honor frontline workers. The artists were Naomi Haverland from Seattle, Washington, Jolene Russell from Sacramento, California, Anat Ronen from Houston, Texas, Jessi Queen from Atlanta, Georgia, Shelly and Dave Brenner from Ann Arbor, Michigan. Dave photographed his wife Shelly, who is also a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist, for a collaborative chalk art piece with each artist making their part in their hometown. -
2020-04-27
COVID-19 and Daycare
I worked at a daycare in Hoover, Alabama for 5 years that provided care to over 200 children. When the state went on lockdown, our numbers dwindled down to 60 as we were only allowing children of first responders to stay. All other children were either left to their parents, babysitters, family, friends, etc. I was a lead infant teacher for babies 6-12 months. I normally have about 10 but on my first day of work after lockdown was initiated, I only had 2 and that instantly meant less noise. I have a schedule I keep but each activity lasted half the time it normally does. It gave the babies more time to play and explore but for me, I had to begin the process of deep cleaning. We were issued new cleaning products and if there was a time when you weren't busy with children, you had to clean. We kept our masks on all day for the children's sake but it limited my breathing since I wasn't used to wearing one. Add that to new, stronger cleaning products and it makes for a difficult day. I experienced the normal smells of infant care that I have for the last 5 years but the new, stronger cleaning smells altered my olfactory system. I was worried how the babies and I would react to it after we've been exposed to the chemicals for a long period of time. We weren't allowed to open our doors or windows so the smell stayed with us all day. It gave me headaches and made my babies cranky. It was a learning process with the new sanitizing methods and we all finally got a rhythm down and requested that we be allowed to open our windows and doors while cleaning. It helped us keep our kids and ourselves healthier and more conscientious about our cleaning habits. With less children around, we were able to clean thoroughly and get everything in order but it felt less like a daycare without all the noise. We worked diligently so that when lockdown was over, we could welcome back our loud and crazy kids to a new, sanitized environment. -
2020-04-27
COVID-19 Memory Archival Project
This is a project that aims to collect as many personal stories as they can. Through archiving the pandemic, they want to assess the impact of COVID-19 on people. -
2020-04-27
view at nightfall
The pandemic has struck everyone hard. China was starting to rebuild the economy and restore normal life with new rules with the ending of national quarantine in April. I take a walk at the seashore every night and see the other side of the city with lights on. It reminds me of the hope and the beauty of life. -
2020-04-27
Doctor cannot come to terms with the things she saw, takes her own life
An emergency room doctor in New York committed suicide while staying with family in Virginia. Her family say she had become detached, and spoke of the horrors she saw while working with coronavirus victims. Her family would like her to be remembered as a hero. The doctor's family has set up a foundation that gives mental health support to health care providers. -
2020-04-27
Toilet Paper Shortage During Pandemic
While many of us living through the pandemic understand the meaning behind this photo, future generations may not. This photograph was taken by a Walmart employee when his store had received a shipment of toilet paper. During this time of the pandemic, toilet paper was a hot commodity and would not stay stocked on the shelves because so many people were buying it. Although this is not an item that we may think of as essential during a pandemic, toilet paper was difficult to come by and the employees had put this out on the floor as soon as it had come off of the truck. Before they could put the item on the shelves, people had already grabbed it from the pallet. -
2020-04-27
Keeping Traditions: Students Shift to Virtual Events During a Global Pandemic
The post is on the St Mary’s student life Instagram page and contains an image of an electronic flyer/bulletin announcement. It is a post to announce an Instagram live stream for St. Mary’s students where there will be cooking lessons, trivia, study tips, DIY projects, Spirit Dress contest, gift cards giveaways and more. Just like how St. Mary's students would use this platform to announce things such a trivia night at the pub on campus, they began to use it to announce online events. This item shows how universities and organizations have had to adapt in order to keep going with their extracurricular activities and traditions that students look forward too. They have always worked hard to keep the student entertained and give them things to do outside of class, however, with COVID, they've had to be more creative and think of activities to do on any online platforms such as Zoom, or in this case, an Instagram live stream. In the end, it is important to try and keep the fun activities and traditions alive and going so that the students can feel as though, even though things are being done on online platforms instead of in person like before, their academic years are still filled with the exiting activities and things they love about being a student. -
2020-04-27
Life in the Times of Covid-19
This is a description of the way that covid changed little things in my life but also how it affected by academic life and my relationships. This is important to me because the impact that Covid has had in my life has been shocking and eye opening, which is a story that I thought would be worth sharing. -
2020-04-27
Plague Journal, Day 45: CoronaWorld oral history, high school teacher
I'm keeping a Covid-19 journal. Here's the latest entry, in which I interview an NYC public high school teacher about the struggles she and her students are facing in CoronaWorld: -
2020-04-27
Geezer's Diary - Chris Bateman
Chris Bateman's first entry for his 'Geezer's Diary' articles for the Union Democrat, the local newspaper for the small town Sonora, California. Chris discusses his children's concerns for his travel plans as COVID-19 really got into full swing in America in March, and how he started social distancing as a result of the pandemic. -
2020-04-27
What it's Like to Suspect Yourself of Having COVID-19 but Unable to Have a Confirmation Test: Notes from the Early days of Pandemic Announcement
This account tells my own experiences of COVID-19 symptoms in the early days of pandemic announcement and my pursuit to get COVID-19 testing. -
2020-04-27
Funny Progressive Insurance Zoom Commericals
These commercials are airing on Hulu now. They are all so funny and typical of people struggling to work the video conferencing. One shows an employee, not realizing that she's not muted, talking about the other people at the meetings. Another one shows people's internet cutting out. A third one is a whole conversation about what day it was--a common problem during quarantine when all the days were the same. -
2020-04-27
I'm in Porn to Make Ends Meet During COVID
This is an article about a mother who was a stripper before the clubs had to close due to COVID laws. Now she is using porn to pay her bills while in quarantine. She does webcam work along with sexting and other things. She has an 8 year old daughter and discusses how she explains her work to her. She is conflicted about what other people think of her activities, her difficulty taking money becuase the usual venues don't accept sext trade payments, how to get social media followers, how privacy acts are affecting her, and the benefit of porn to people who partake in it. She ends with "Porn is literally saving many people's lives during quarantine." -
2020-04-27
Humans of Covid-19 AU: Raveena Grace
“There has certainly been an increase in waste due to the pandemic. A lot of people became used to reusable coffee cups, plates, cutlery and straws. But because of COVID19 we have seen cafes not being able to take them, and people are forced to use disposable cups. On campus, we had to close the Choose to Reuse program pretty early on due to fear of contamination. It’s pretty sad to see all your hard work get shut down, and especially from a behaviour change perspective it's very disappointing. On the other hand, COVID19 has brought some opportunity for sustainability. There is less pollution on the roads; more people are beginning to see that they can work from home; and people are appreciating nature more. There are many things people can do to improve their sustainability at home. For example, plants are really positive not only for health and wellbeing, but also for the environment and brightening the workspace. Either people will gain a really strong appreciation for nature, and an awareness that we are not invincible. Or people will not connect the links between COVID-19 and the environment, and continue taking earth for granted. If we don't learn from our mistakes about how to be kind to the earth, we’re just going to face the same issues again.” Instagram post on Raveena Grace, Sustainability Engagement Officer, and her experience during the pandemic, which was created by a psychology student living in Melbourne who was interested to hear about how COVID-19 was impacting on different peoples’ lives. -
2020-04-27
Humans of Covid-19 AU: Gersh Lazarow
“Pretty early we shutdown the synagogue, and my family and I made the decision to go into isolation, as I am immune-compromised due to recovering from cancer. Since then we have been lucky to be able to launch a virtual congregation, and that’s been quite amazing. We have daily activities, prayer services and events. We are finding that people are engaging in our program now more than ever before because they are looking for content and, in isolation, are recognising the beauty that community brings to their lives. Things have been brought from the periphery to the centre of our consciousness, including the importance of relationships, value of community, sense of connectedness - many things that we take for granted until they are taken away. As a rabbi, my tradition is a great source of comfort to me, inspiring me to find paths to continue, rather than to stop Jewish life, just as past leaders have done over our long 4,000 year history. The synagogue may be shut, but our community never closes. We accept the need for social distancing but reject any possibility for social isolation. This year we added a paper clip to the Passover seder plate as a symbol of life right now. COVID-19 has required from us immense flexibility: the ability to bend and turn, but like the paper clip, the capacity to hold us together. The colour of the traditional paper clip, silver, is also symbolic, representing that even in this chaos there are silver linings, such as time, awakenings, valuable lessons, great blessings.” Instagram post on Gersh Lazarow, Rabbi, and his experience during the pandemic, which was created by a psychology student living in Melbourne who was interested to hear about how COVID-19 was impacting on different peoples’ lives. -
2020-04-27
Local Ohio Church Donates Food to Community for those in Need
Pastor Gray from Zion Baptist Church in Chillicothe, Ohio shares photograph on Facebook of food ready to be donated to local people in need amid COVID19. -
2020-04-27
Return back to school after COV-19
Students are returning back to University after almost 4 months of school closed. -
2020-04-27
Covid-19: Lessons from the Yanomami of Brazil
"Since their initial contacts with outsiders beginning in the 1940s, the Yanomami have lived through wave after wave of deadly viral epidemics, notably the measles and flu." -
2020-04-27
Virginia judge rules indoor gun range can reopen, dealing a blow to Gov. Northam's shutdown order
This article is important because it details that even politicians are having difficulties with maintaining the rules of their citizens. -
2020-04-27
Data suggests the 'crazy science deniers' may have been right to compare coronavirus to the flu
This article is important because it describes a rationale that compares COVID 19 to the flu and the reason why Americans are afraid of saying they are comparable. -
2020-04-27
A Postcard From a Friend
Sent to me by a friend who lives less than half an hour from me, this is an example of how the world has reverted in some ways during the pandemic. Written letters and postcards are largely objects of the past, yet this was an effort at analog connection in the digital world, one that required thought and care to produce. -
2020-04-27
The number of visits to the electronic library in Yakutia has tripled in a pandemic (Число посещений электронной библиотеки в Якутии выросло в три раза в условиях пандемии)
"The number of visitors to electronic services of the National Library of the Republic of Sakha (Yakutia) in March and April 2020 almost tripled compared to the same period last year, the director of the institution Sargylana Maksimova told TASS." #IndigenousStories -
2020-04-27
Coronavirus Threatens Small Communities of Indigenous Peoples of the North (Коронавирус угрожает малым народам Севера)
"Grigory Ledkov, President of the Association of Indigenous Minorities of the North, Siberia and the Far East, appealed to the governor of the Khabarovsk Territory with a call to take additional measures and take special control of the situation in the Ulchi region related to coronavirus." #IndigenousStories -
2020-04-27
Indigenous Peoples' Association is sounding alarm over coronavirus in Ulchi district
"Ulchi, Nani - Indigenous peoples in the Khabarovsk Territory - trying to reach the governor in an attempt to pay special attention to the situation with coronavirus. Indifference may result in the extermination of Indigenous peoples." #IndigenousStories -
2020-04-27
Indigenous Russian Village Celebrates Holiday Virtually
“This year, due to restrictive measures related to the prevention of the spread of coronavirus infection, the Day of the Republic of Sakha (Yakutia) in the Neryungri district is held online….The head of the district, Viktor Stanilovsky, chairman of the Assembly of Peoples of Yakutia Andrei Fitisov and chairmen of national communities congratulated the whole republic with a festive video clip, which is distributed in all popular social networks. On April 27, in the village of Hani, an online drawing contest ‘The Land of the Native’. Students and teachers of the local art school on a festive day became spectators of a virtual festive concert dedicated to the Republic Day ‘Shine and be glorified forever, my Yakutia!’ And the pupils of the theater and aesthetic departments take part in a media lesson on the history of the republic.” #IndigenousStories -
2020-04-27
Spotted Cat Music Club Relief Fund for Musicians, New Orleans, LA
Spotted Cat Music Club started a GoFundMe campaign to raise money to support out of work musicians. The club details in their facebook post that they established a goal of raising $44,200, which is the bare minimum musicians working at Spotted Cat Music Club would earn in the month of April. -
2020-04-27
Willie Mae's Takes the Covid Care Initiative to a New Level, New Orleans, LA
Willie Mae's in New Orleans provides 250 meals to the cities residents and community. -
27/04/2020
Signs From Around: #11, Bronx, NY
"Signs From Around: #11, Bronx, NY" is part of a series exploring the signage surrounding COVID-19 from different parts of the world. COVID Testing Center -
2020-04-27
WWOZ Piano Night, Virtual Benefit, New Orleans, LA
On Monday, April 27, WWOZ, a local radio station, streamed Piano Night From Our Homes to Yours via WWOZ's Facebook page, on our YouTube channel, and on WWOZ.org. The featured pianists captured their performances in their homes and sent them to WWOZ. Hosts, Cole and Missy, worked with the 'OZ video team to weave them together into one night of music. Piano Night is an annual benefit for WWOZ that takes place during Jazz Fest which was canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. -
2020-04-27
Flyover from Luke Air Force Base to honor healthcare workers
Luke Air Force Base in Phoenix, Arizona, issued this press release. They performed a flyover with 15 aircraft that followed a route that encompassed the entire valley. They encourage people to not gather in areas to watch the flyover, but to stay in their homes. -
2020-04-27
San Manuel Band of Mission Indians Extends Casino Closure to May 31st
“As the coronavirus pandemic and response to it continues to affect just about every aspect of our world, we remain committed to the principle that the health and safety of our community is the most important priority.” #IndigenousStories -
2020-04-27
My Classroom (pt.1)
This photo was taken for my school's "virtual spirit week". The day was titled "MySpace Monday" and the photo challenge was to take a picture of your workspace. This is picture one of two of my classroom that I am using due to the pandemic. #HST643 -
2020-04-27
Protestors Gather to Call for an End to Social Distancing
Protestors on April 27th in locations across Orange County gathered to call for an end to social distancing, a return to work, and the removal of CA Governor Newsom. The protest was a few hours long, and featured a variety of messages. Some practiced social distancing and wore masks and other protective gear. Most ignored recommendations. -
2020-04-27
Slow Drive By of Protestors Asking for the State of California to be Re-Opened
Protestors congregated in the main public plaza in the City of Orange, advocating for the ending of social distancing and a return to work. People drove by and honked their horns in agreement, or also engaged in debate with the protestors. -
2020-04-27
Land of the Free, Home of the Protestors
On April 27th, groups of protestors congregated on the main public square in the City of Orange. This man was one of the earlier ones, coming with a sign on a paper plate that read "Land of the Free." He wore a facemask and kept his distance from everyone else. -
2020-04-27
Costco Cleaning Procedures
Costco has made it the policy now that at cash registers, after each use by a customer, they will be disinfected by a team member with paper towels and a cleaning solution. In addition to the plastic barrier present at each register, this is to help slow the spread of the disease. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #13
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #12
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #11
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #10
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #9
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #8
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #7
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #6
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #5
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days. -
2020-04-27
Window Series #4
In mid-march my school transitioned to virtual classes and sent everyone home for the semester. I've mostly been at home in Manhattan since then; the last time I rode the subway, previously a daily occurrence, was over six weeks ago now. At home and in the neighborhood nearby since then, I feel as though I can look out the window onto a previous version of myself that could not have anticipated any of this. I also feel as though I look at myself now through a window, because after over a month, this all still feels fake in a way. It’s as though time has been suspended and I’m watching myself filling that time that “doesn’t count.” There is a numbness that comes with not being able to do any of what we’re used to and not being able to see people who we thought nothing of seeing every day in the past. The window analogy is both a way of conceptualizing but also deliberately engaging in that numbness and removing oneself from the reality of the situation, perhaps on both a personal and global level. It’s also a way of rebuilding the wall that has been breached by collision of home with the spaces that are normally outside of it, like work and school, and are now part of the same physical setting, albeit digitally. This has made me think a lot about windows, which are everywhere in New York, and so I started to take pictures of windows in buildings I passed while going for walks. The windows themselves all look similar; despite differences in architectural style, they are all in essence the same glass barrier between inside and outside and public and private. It’s not something specific to life in a pandemic, but during this time it is especially relevant because for people staying mostly at home, our windows are potentially the only glimpse of the outside that we’ll see in a day. They divide our former lives and everything that we’d normally be doing outside of home from our current lives that have suspended many of those activities and digitized others. It’s easier to think about these private separate lives going on behind the windows I pass when there are fewer people out on the street. Normally the act of passing people as I walk is more engaging than what I can’t see in the closed-off apartment buildings, but now there is not a lot going on in the streets. It’s interesting to think I’m probably closer in distance to people behind the walls of the ground floors of buildings than the people I can see on the street, especially on the less busy streets that are particularly empty these days.