On Marche à 2021

Carlo Crivelli, ‘Saint Michael’ c. 1476, tempera on poloar [altarpiece]

It’s two more weeks before the end of 2020. What a year! I won’t bore you with details you already know. But I bet you’re as excited as I am to bring on 2021.

We’re talking vaccines now, so people are hopeful for the new-normal to be just normal. But what is normal, hey? Again, I won’t bore you with my existential angst. The fact is that, and it’s good news, scientists tell us these vaccines, whether they are Pfizer or Moderna, are 95% efficient. YAY!!

England, Wales and Scotland will be facing their toughest lockdown ever once Christmas comes and goes.  This would be my third lockdown, believe it or not, and I haven’t even travelled since arriving in London on July 8th, 2020.  

But I welcome the lockdown because there is a new variant of the coronavirus in the U.K. And, I look forward to spending time at home with my family close by. And, I am curious to know how all the new restrictions will affect my mental health. 

Here’s what I’ll be doing safe at home:

  • Read ‘The Swerve: How the Renaissance Began’ by Stephen Greenblatt. The Guardian has called this book ‘dazzling’. I love the Renaissance for its magic, glitter, and sensuousness. Most of all, I love the Renaissance for its pursuit of beauty. 
  • Write ‘Looking for Pauline’ [working title]. I am exploring the hybrid memoir. The hybrid memoir is a literary concept and is said to be a text that occupies “liminal spaces”. [MacAdams, 2017]. There are many hybrid memoirs in the market that explore the human condition, bereavement, and trauma. This literary form provides authors with new opportunities for self-expression, often leading to self-transformation. Writing a hybrid memoir promises to be a healing journey. 
  • Teach ‘Telling Our Stories With Art(e)Facts’. I have been invited to write a new lesson plan for this workshop which will be offered online by SingLit Station. I have to integrate at least 3 digital platforms to teach secondary school students the craft of flash fiction prompted by art. The initial name for this workshop was ‘Painting A Story, something I’d curated back in 2015 combining art history and creative writing, which morphed into ‘Writing Stories from Artefacts’ when I was reading a M.A. in Art History. I was learning about how art is informed by history and how art interrogates history and narratives. I’ve been writing flash fiction informed by art works since then, and continue to do so, finding catharsis with each story. Every workshop is uniquely curated based on the needs and ages of the participants. So, as you can see, I have my work cut out for me.

On the last day of freedom in London (Tuesday 15, 2020), the Italian and I took a stroll in Trafalgar Square and booked ourselves in for an art walk at the National Gallery. It’s been a while since I went to a museum. The feeling was exhilarating. It was sensationally satisfying to be surrounded by great pieces from the Italian Renaissance, like da Vinci to Dutch Old Masters, like Van Dyck. 

I have a foot fetish, I’ll admit. Once upon a time when I could walk on stilts, I loved nothing more than shopping for stilettoes and even made a collection of these shoes. Old feet worn out by too much high heel walking, I have now retired them to being clad by platforms or flats. C’est ma vie! 

You’re looking at the shins and feet of St Michael, painted on poplar with tempera [a quick-dry paint made from colour pigments mixed with a water-soluble binder, like egg yolk] by Carlo Crivelli (c. 1476). Here St Michael is preparing to smite Satan. This painting formed the side panels of an altarpiece for San Domenico, a church in Ascoli Piceno. Isn’t it just exquisite that so much beauty can exist on a piece of wood?—look at the way the toes and depicted so realistically. Isn’t it just marvellous how well preserved it is for being more than 500 years old?—Museums are so important for more than just repositories artworks: its educational programmes, its research into conservation, its collection of artworks as documents of history. 

Alors, mes amies, it’s time to go! I wish one and all lots of festive cheer and on marche à 2021! Bring on 2021!