Love Letters to Self #6

“An artist loves being alone… alone to think, create, and manifest. The preferred condition an artist desires is to be uninterrupted. The quarantine presented by a worldwide pandemic was not so frightening for artists. At last, maybe, we had time to thoroughly focus and be productive. Unrealistically, some of us thought we had time to write the Great American Novel. Some of us were more measured and thought if we just kept a Covid Journal for a year, perhaps something would evolve. Artists had time to get art done and even had spare time to learn how to cook, garden, and be mixologists. But then the loneliness set in. Too much ‘me time’ and isolation was no longer romantic. The romance of being an artist left to our own private devices literally crumpled after nine months. Like birthing a child, the three trimesters of Covid artmaking had run their course. So, pages written and drawings started began collecting the dust of boredom. These crumpled Love Letters to Self are literally the discarded ‘stops and starts’ of projects unrealized.”

- Constance Edwards Scopelitis