Art Letter 11: Your Personal Corona Monster

Here’s how I deal with invisible monsters:

I make them visible.

Then I beat the snot out of them.

Years ago when I was struggling with the icy steel plate of winter crushing my soul in New York City, I had a little demon named Raul. He was white and furry like a yeti, and he was my winter demon. Whenever I felt irrationally furious about the temperatures, I’d throw him across the room, or smoosh him under a pillow. It’s childish. You may think I’m joking. I’m really not. After that, C and I shared a scruffy brown demon named Belt Parkway who helped us deal with the traffic gauntlet that belts Brooklyn.

I genuinely believe that art is therapeutic, so guess what y’all? I made a Corona Monsters Flow Chart! Follow along to find your personal match. Then click on the link, print it out, and make your frustrations manifest!

Featured

1. Co-Vidalia Onion

A crying buddy. Have a weep-a-long, then crush it into the compost bin with a butterknife.

2. Co-Raaawra Dino

Just pissed. Roar your guts out at this nasty little rex, gnash it in your teeth and spit it out into a used face mask.

3. Hypo-Covdriac

Did you just cough? Is there an SOS pad in your chest? Tape this monster to your throbbing heart and freak out together.

4. Cabin Feverius

No matter how big your home is, it is TOO SMALL. Tear this monster into two pieces, crumple them into balls and shove it in your ears. (This is actually just a self-portrait).

5. Co-Vicious Reaper

The real deal. Stealing life and hoarding masks in its greedy fanny pack. Don’t hold back. (I know, I misspelled vicious).

6. Co-Vince Me

This boulder-head goes around acting invincible, and as if it isn’t intimately entangled with the rest of humanity. Use it for toilet paper.

We are dealing with a global pandemic, and I realize my creative response may come across as glib. Please know that I am sober about the reality of Covid-19. We have been self-quarantined since the 16th, and both Cosimo and I are sick - with what we don’t know, since testing is unavailable, but it’s suspiciously corona-esque. I do, however, use art to process my feelings and my fears. I genuinely hope this helps you to process yours as well.

I’ve not been working on miniatures this past month. Because: HOW?!? I have been working on some other spontaneous pieces between naps and little windows of protected time that C and I cordon off for each other.

Above are all oil paintings made from waters we sailed through on our year aboard. I believe you’re looking at the Charleston River, a few miles offshore in the Atlantic, the Waccamaw River in South Carolina, and one other isolated anchorage that I can’t place?

Below are two illustration-paintings for local parks here in Bellingham.

Am I getting paid for any of this work? Nope! But I paint like I am. I’m like a hamster on a canvas wheel with a tiny little paintbrush.