Its Wednesday 25th March and the sun is shinning here, but the novelty of Lockdown has worn off. My testosterone fuelled teenage son has been playing his guitar, to hear it in the silent air, as he moves from one room to another is either incredibly uplifting, producing a nod of the head and a smile from this pleased parent or ….. its just plain annoying, interrupting those quieter moments – I don’t want to hear the thrashing of a distorted electric guitar, when trying to read or when concentrating on some new domestic and challenging orientated task.
The sun is shinning and it feels like a blessing to be able to sit in a garden. I am trying to read, Hans Fallada or James Joyce but I cant concentrate, an article from Frieze or some other magazine is about the best I can do . Thoughts turn to the day ahead, the domestic duties (They are not chores I try to tell myself ) followed by an array of personal projects, I have an plenty of art materials , oil paints, pastels ,charcoal, paper and canvas surely now is the time to be painting but then there is the garden. I’ve dug up an area to plant potatoes, and have seeds to plant and the sun is shinning.
My Niece has the Coronavirus, my thoughts turn to her and to my Brother, her Father. I wish I could do some thing,…for her, my Brother, for myself even …. something to stop my thoughts drifting towards thinking about her being taken to hospital and so on. Get a grip ….she’s self isolating at home and I know that she has no underlying health issues but I’m still waiting for that message from my Brother to say she has turned a corner and is on the road to recovery. More thoughts to fill the new silence that is around us all. After the lets make the most of it and chatty matey-ness with neighbours at an appropriate distance, its all gone quiet over here, the collective consciousness deep in thought. Get a grip … move away from the melancholy . its home education time, The French Revolution and a day of fun learning activities. Except I am not a good teacher, at least not today, I’m impatient, ratty on a scale of 1 to 10 ? who knows . I’ve decided that we are going to make a paper kite, we have all the materials, laid out but my son wants to listen to music, play his electric guitar -but, this is the time that I have set aside to have a fun learning activity and make a kite. I’ve had it all planned out Father & Son harmoniously being creative together, a bonding experience except its gone all pear-shaped and is turning into an issue of conflict. The absurdity of it all eventually dawns on me. Its not an easy time for him either, not grounded just locked down, its no holiday. 30 minutes later he comes back at me with a sequence of chords he has put together, it sounds vaguely like Another Girl Another Planet by The Only Ones , he tells me that’s where he got the idea from , he’s chuffed , I’m humbled maybe I,/we will listen to them later today .
Peter Perrett of The Only Ones ( photo Brian Gibson)
The Sun is shining