If anything I do is worthy of a blog post, cooking a thirty-pound turkey on Thanksgiving is it. There we were, Barrett and I, the night before Thanksgiving, at the smallest grocery store in our county looking at three of the biggest birds ever farmed.
Therein lies the mistake I didn’t know I was making all month: waiting until twelve hours before Thanksgiving dinner to grocery shop. This seems so incredibly obvious now, that I’m not sure how I missed it. Of course there would only be thirty-pound birds left, of course. In the midst of a global pandemic, I feel like I should almost condemn turkey farmers. Nobody on Earth would need a monster-turkey this year. I could have probably gotten away with a couple Cornish game hens. Actually, if it weren’t for The Rona, all I really would have had to do was my usual, show up, try to keep the kids from breaking stuff, drink a glass of wine and help with the cleanup. Maybe make some cranberry sauce. Yes, we planned Thanksgiving at home, just the four of us, where every other year of my life has been spent with people who know better than to grocery shop the night before. Alas, I transferred the bird from the freezer to that place on the cart reserved for cases of beer and seedless watermelons, had it scanned, and strapped it into Graham’s car seat for the drive home. I was half way home before I realized three things: I forgot Mayonnaise, I have nothing big enough to cook in, and lastly, the poor bird probably couldn’t even walk by the time it was done with life. What had I done? We emptied a toy tote and brought the ice cube in to begin thawing and I promptly texted a few family members that I was in over my head. I received various replies, but the resounding frequency was, “30 lbs? Are you sure?” My dad called me immediately, mostly to commiserate and laugh. “I don’t even like turkey,” I said. “Now I have to double up the cranberry sauce too.” “Look at the bright side,” he said. “Friday morning you’ll only have twenty-six pounds of leftover turkey.” In the morning I ran to the store for a swimming pool and a meat bag to cook the bird in and when I got home, I still prioritized baking pumpkin pies. I called my mom to tell her proudly that I had baked three pies that I knew would not go to waste. She gasped. “It’s going to take twelve hours to bake that bird. You’ll be eating dinner at midnight.” In the end it wasn’t that bad. It only took nine hours to bake the bird. I’ll spare the details, but I rubbed some Hawaiian salt on the outside, put the bird in the oven long enough to thaw so I could take out the stuff inside and put other stuff inside. Then, I spent the rest of the day checking its temperature. (This is one area where I excel, but after this year, I suppose we all do.) I should mention Jesse helped with this process. Men love doing the dangerous jobs, so we let him lift that heifer in and out of the burning oven. Truthfully, it was his bacon-mashed potatoes that saved the day when we all got hungry and realized we had two hours until the turkey would be done. This is all to say, we really do need to be together with our loved ones on holidays. The Rona is hampering our very traditions and heritages. Mothers need to be mothered, Fathers need to exclaim about the new projects around the house, Grandmothers need someone to spoil, Grandfathers need to tell their childhood stories about trains, children need to get rowdy and be sent outside, aunties need to help with the turkey, and uncles need to read books about bunnies. It’s just been that way for generations. We ate dinner and Zoomed over pie with lots of family members, people we might not have seen otherwise this year. The positive side of this story is that we handed turkey and pie over the fence to our neighbors, will have enchiladas for days, ham for Christmas, and we only had twenty-five pounds of leftover turkey. I have attempted to write a blog post outlining my feelings on the definition, orchestration, and outcome of The Flag Series and I have failed, not because I couldn’t think of anything to say, but because, I couldn’t bring myself to say the things I thought.
At some point, ownership of this project was transferred from me to the participants and it would not do for me to monologue on top of the beauty we created. I must simply, let the photos speak for themselves. However, I do need to say, thank you – a wholehearted thank you to those who believed in me, in Jenny O., came out to be photographed and support our proclamation that the American flag is a symbol of diversity and tolerance in addition to whatever other uses it my be employed. We see the strength in our differences. Much gratitude and respect. I love and appreciate you all. If you read Part 1 of this blog post, you’d know we set out to create an image that would resound with Americans and encourage patriotism (yes, even in a time when people ask ‘Is patriotism ok today?).
Our goal with the main image was to create a feeling of competent, powerful leadership. Every American will respond to compassion. It doesn’t matter what the political affiliation is – every human wants to believe their leader cares what happens to them. All I wanted was a big sky and a granite rock. On the El Dorado National Forest, that’s easy to find. It’s free. It’s ours. It’s public. Anyone with a car and a map can access a national forest within a couple hours. So there we were, Miss Nevada, in a draping gown, on top of a big granite rock. On all sides of her was a drop of varying magnitudes, from a tumble into the brush to an actual fall into the reservoir. And she’s afraid of heights. Add sand and skimpy trails to the equation and a giant, heavy flag that CANNOT touch the ground. Oh yes, and 'Nasya, will you please look in the direction of the sun.?' (By the way, we owe many thanks to the Marine Corps League Motherlode Detachment 1080, not for only fighting for our freedom, but for also letting us borrow their awe-inspiring flag. Jenny O. got chills the first time she saw it. It’s a true beauty and the image would not have happened without their kindness.) We needed wind. I have never been to Bear River Reservoir Dam without it blowing a gale, but there we were and the air was dead as a doornail. We’d brought a leaf blower just in case, so Jenny stood inches from the fall into the water and blew. My mom managed a light and photographed other angles. Nasya’s mom, Lisa, observed all of this and offered positive feedback, but probably secretly hoped that her daughter wouldn’t take a nasty biff, or need stitches after a shoot with Kelly Curtis. Here comes the honesty that most photographers, even me, don’t offer willingly. The main photo is a composite. It's two photos blended together in the editing phase. I could write an entire blog post on the ethics of compositing, but as long as we are truthful about it, we can do anything with imagery today. It’s very important to note that the image is a composite. The symbolism of the goddess, the leadership, and the patriotism is imperative to get correct. I liken the image to the production of a play. It's art, a symbolic statement meant to provoke thought and awe at the American landscape and theory of justice, liberty, dreams and opportunity for all. Anyways, I moped around for a couple days mourning the weather. High-pressure, no wind, no clouds, no drama. One of the hardest parts of a styled shoot is the scheduling. It was shooting day whether I liked it or not, so I accepted that to make the vision come true, I'd need to composite. I went back a couple days later and photographed the lovely clouds. (You can see an image below where I kept the sparse sky because it was a beautiful contrast to the movement, angle, and pose of Nasya.) On my way to the location to set up a tent where Nasya could change wardrobes, I stopped in where Jenny was doing hair and makeup. Jenny was wearing her mask and doing one hell of a bold smokey-eye. She used charcoal instead of black to emphasize Nasya's eyes and did her skin high gloss with a natural lip. She used Featherlite Leather to tie up Nasya’s hair in a mohawk, to give the appearance of a helmet, but she left some down so we could have feminine movement in the wind. As for wardrobe, we had a bolt of hand-me-down fabric, about seventy-five linear feet of sheer removed from my living room, and a dress bought at goodwill. We wrapped the sheer for the Columbia shot and went from there. After the Columbia shot on the rock, we went down to the parking lot for some blue-hour photos. We spent about twenty-minutes making some pretty photos (with found items in nature) and called it a day. One of the beautiful things about our shoot is that it was entirely non-commercial. Each of us participated out of mutual respect for one another and love for our country and sadness at our nation's turmoil. During those last twenty minutes of shooting, I was overcome with the feeling that anyone could do a shoot like this and that was very powerful for me. I don't believe everyone in our country has the same opportunity for education, power, and riches, (Vote, Vote, Vote) but for taking a picture in nature, they do. No, not everyone is Nasya Mancini and can become Miss Nevada, but she did compete for seven years to win her title. No, not everyone has Jenny O. doing their hair and makeup, but Jenny has worked her entire career to have the freedom to work complimentary on projects close to her heart. And no, not everyone has a fancy camera and cool editing software, but I have never taken a class on photography. I am entirely self-taught through online tutorials and you-tube. Everyone has free access to public lands (or a spot with some green stuff), a piece of fabric, a smartphone, and editing apps. I would love to see what you come up with for your own concept shoot with your kids, your sister, your boyfriend, grandmother, for the people and sentiments close to your heart. When we started planning the Nasya Mancini shoot, we had visions of nature, perhaps Lake Tahoe, maybe even a commercial location. Then Covid-19 shut down, canceled or postponed everything. Our Miss Nevada shoot was rescheduled for early June. Jenny, Nasya, and I had several weeks to plan and think. We thought maybe to represent the change Covid-19 has inflicted on our lives, Nevada style. An empty saloon? Why not? Then George Floyd was murdered and our Nation was thrust deeper into to turmoil. Police violence, riots, deeply-rooted racism and ill presidential leadership stacked with the trauma of an out-of-control global pandemic, collapsed American economy and continuously tolling death bell. Americans are grossly divided. Everything we do is politicized, (even going to the grocery store), and we can be sure to see and hear stories of hate every day. Instead of providing us with a unifying voice and promoting peace in our great country, our president is responding with overwhelming negligence and misconduct. It is in this climate that we planned and performed the Miss Nevada, Nasya Mancini, photo shoot. I knew I wanted to use the American flag in the shoot. I wanted a powerful symbol that could speak to every American. Though we are diverse and our experiences vast, I believe the flag can inspire us, as Americans to do better for ourselves and for the future. For me, the flag has been a symbol of dreams, standards, ethics, and unity since I was a child reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in school. I think many Americans have a similar experience even if we are disenfranchised at times. We chose to have Nasya perform the character Columbia who over the centuries has represented America in terms of liberty, justice, equality, immigration, education, armed forces recruitment, and of course some of the more capitol endeavors of Americans, such as Columbia Pictures. Columbia is as cherished and sometimes commercialized as America herself, but at the heart of Columbia is the goddess Athena, who is pure as only a goddess can be. Athena, goddess of war who won with cunning, planning and knowledge. She was a true leader who encouraged people to build, craft, make arts, and learn, to become educated and fight the battles with intelligence. America seems on the brink of war with itself and my hope is that our voice of calm patriotism can be heard with a dramatic photograph. I hope we can inspire people to choose better for themselves, their families, their communities and their nation, to vote with their wallet, their heart, and their mind. NEXT UP: In Part 2 of this blog, we’ll discuss the technical stuff on how we pulled off this and more amazing images. We'll discuss hair and make up, wardrobe, location, and shoot specifics. As far as neighborhood citizenship goes, there are few things more embarrassing than chasing your dog through the neighbors’ yard yelling, “come” to a dog whom you can’t even see, let alone believe will actually come. It’s particularly confusing to neighbors when the dog is new to the family and has a human name, such as Jamie. I’m just glad I haven’t had to do this in my bathrobe, yet.
Jamie is a bird-dog. Pure German Shorthair Pointer, she was bred to hunt and her instinct to chase birds is as strong as mine is to eat Rice Krispies at bedtime. She’s also a water-dog. One of the times I ran through the neighborhood yelling, “Jamie, Come!” (Yes, this happened more than once), our senior neighbors were so startled and shaken they reportedly called one another saying, “There is someone outside yelling.” The first thing I did after a particularly long game of Where is My Dog? was retrieve my water-logged retriever. By then, she was out of the pond, where I did not witness, but suspect she was playing her own game of chase with the Canada goose family who also resides in our hood. I apologized to the smiling land-owner, who complimented her beauty, and politely explained that they see their geese as pets. (The second thing I did, was wonder. If my neighbors heard me yelling outside, why didn’t they come out and see if I needed help? What does it mean to be a good neighborhood citizen, really?) Anyways, please help us welcome Jamie to the family. She’s an almost-two-year old GSP whom I purchased from a breeder in Loomis, CA - Winter Creek GSPs. The Branns are responsible and ethical breeders who have many years of breeding, training and competing experience. I feel compelled to explain this because I’ve only ever adopted rescue dogs in the past. Between the months of November and April, I looked at over a million rescue and shelter dogs in our region that need homes. I applied for approximately twenty dogs, and received only three calls back from rescues that had already, thanks to shelter in place orders and bored families everywhere, adopted out the dogs. I did a trial with a rescue dog who made me fear for the safety of my children. With summer and fire season fast approaching, I decided to call breeders of German Shorthair Pointers and ask about purchasing an adult female. I already have two puppies at home named Barrett and Graham, so an adult was in our cards. I quickly learned that a responsible breeder tests for and humanely breeds for health, intelligence, work ethic and temperament. Ironically, Pam was selling Jamie because she had “stopped birding.” I chose GSP because I have some experience chasing bird dogs (oh love Zahara and KD) and because the female size is manageable to me at forty-five pounds. Also, obviously, they have short hair. Jamie is silly, smart, beautiful, and quick-learning with floppy ears. She is physically and mentally tolerant of children streaking through the house with a sheet over their head at top volume (probably even more-so than me). To Jamie, children are the most interesting and wonderful beings in the world, second only to feathers. She is a little shy, but responds to strangeness with inquisition. She’s my first speckled dog and we love her and she is quickly learning “come,” because she’s also learning that she’s home. Some theories of psychology reference an ‘inner child’ we all harbor, who just wants to be nurtured and loved. I have a cranky, under-slept seventeen year old who, in times of stress, just wants to be alone on a riverbank with a dog and a book. Simplify. Simplify. Simplify.
However, of course, the most beautiful parts of my life circle back to friends and family. First photography gigs and a business built on friendly willingness to be in front of my novice camera, hand-me-down clothes for my kids, shared toys and recommended books, ideas and advice, and people who say, “I hear you.” In early March, right before COVID-19 closed us down, I visited Kristi. Her kids were at school and mine spent two hours playing outside with their toys while Kristi and I talked shop and debated how big COVID would turn out to be. (Turns out we were both wrong.) Before we left, she gave us a huge box of children’s books that gave us many miles of reading as the library and thrift stores closed. In that stack of books was Loving Ways: A Book About Love for Children by Susan Ross and Barbara Alexander. It’s very short, with only a handful of pages and a few journaling prompts at the end. I thought it would be nice to read with my five-year-old, but I never thought it would help shape my reentry into the COVID-19 world. As counties all over California begin to open and hustle through the phases, unread PDFs in their inboxes I’m sure, I ask myself, what should I rush back to? What should I choose for my family? It feels like a big responsibility. Even though I have gig cancellations, and opportunity loss in the tens of thousands, my life feels very full. I have two young children who adore each other one moment and threaten life and limb the next, a new dog (more on that later), parents to visit, and returned-to, near-forgotten goals. Also, frankly, I don’t want to get sick. (As an aside, perhaps even a soapbox, I’ve been seeing a lot of social media posts that say ‘I wear a mask for you, not me’ and ‘I’m not afraid of the virus, I’m a good citizen.’ I ask, is it really so bad to be afraid of a virus that has killed 90,000 Americans at time of writing? Is our society so politicized by this pandemic, that we can’t be afraid of ill health, hospitalization and death? I’m afraid and I don’t feel lame about it, no matter how minimal my risk.) I am aware that my choice of what to go back to from my pre-shutdown life drips with privilege. Certainly, most Americans do not have a choice of taking work when it’s offered, of sending their kids to childcare, of isolating before seeing their senior parents. In fact, many Americans choose to go back to life because they found it’s unhealthy to stay home. Thankfully, I have the space to think, plan, and choose. For me, the question of what to reabsorb into my life hasn’t been easy to answer. A few of the answers are downright painful, such as choosing not to allow Bear to return to preschool, a place where he was about to wear his first cap and gown. In some ways, I know I’m overthinking this return to normal. That’s the teenager in me. Obsessing over possibilities, waiting for epiphanies, bored with anything that doesn’t provide immediate interest or reward. The adult in me, needing to approach life’s big debates a little more methodically, dug through the deepest tote in my children’s room, searching for Loving Ways, intuiting that a book about love could guide my way. According to Ross and Alexander, the types of love are: Romantic, Friendship, Family, Pets, Earth, Brotherly (Humanity), and Self. And so, flipping through the pages of paper-collage art, I craft my answer. As opening of life and business happens, I will put my husband first and seek his perspective on my choices. I will care for my body, mind, and spirit. I will be with those who help my being. I will play with and teach my children. I will see my closest family. I will make a warm home for the animals that bring us joy and keep the rodent population down. I will go outside and study and be thankful. I will work to bring joy in a trying time my fellow humans through my photography business. And that is all. In January of 2020, I worked tireless hours with the Amador Wedding Collaborative to put on the first ever Amador Wedding and Wine Tour Located in Sutter Creek at the Hotel Sutter. The event met and exceeded our expectations in terms of attendees and some of our vendors have confirmed bookings out of the event.
Then, Kristi, Jenny and I quickly planned a follow up event at Simply Bubbles in February. We all booked clients. We had Vendor Mixers scheduled, high-end styled shoots and were assisting others in planning their events. We talked about a large, Jam-style event for Amador County in the Summer of 2020. Then COVID-19 appeared in the United States and California shut down in a matter of days. We are now faced with the difficult realization that when our country, state, and county re-open the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 will still be present. Business is, if not forever changed, then long-term, severely different. In a matter of weeks, businesses have been made to reinvent. (The one that did it the most quickly, in my opinion is the restaurant business. They went from dine-in to take-out almost overnight.) I admit, I have been slower in my reinvention in terms of my business. The photographing itself hasn’t been difficult. I have had three shoots that have been successful at social distancing. I have two lenses that are wonderful for distances greater than 15’. However, the scheduling is difficult. This is a sensitive time where we should be considerate of peoples’ health and I have not been promoting or advocating for business operations. Also, I have built my brand on events, documenting peoples’ milestones, and being in the community, which is different, now-a-days, with much of our lives taking place online. I am not a huge fan of hanging out online. Like almost everyone, I prefer to hang out in person. Still, I must find a way to produce quality photos, information and virtual events for people in the sea of “what’s happening virtually.” This is the current brainstorm for myself and the Amador Wedding Collaborative and I'm sure many businesses around the world. For now, I’ll be using my networks in the community to get back to social distancing shoots for families, seniors, couples, businesses, and clubs. It’s going to look different than it has in the past, but your photos don’t have to. They will be awesome. What about you? How are you reinventing yourself or your business during this time of online living? Comment below. *A note on the ring photos. These are all that I'll share from a social distancing elopement in April 2020. The couple prefered to keep their photos private, but I will say the afternoon was beautiful, woodsey, and golden in the evening with a glowing bride and handsome groom. Comment below which photo you prefer. A very simple act of humanity brought me to tears this afternoon, and again as I write this. My friend Kristi told me about free lunches at the grade school. I am aware that this has been going on, (all over California), but so far we haven’t partaken. I thought it was just for kids who usually depend on school lunches (I mean my kids aren't even in school yet), but Kristi said I should try it; her kids look forward to it a couple times a week.
I admit, I was looking for a break in the stay-home monotony, so I took the boys over to see if pre-kindergarden kids could partake. It was a drive-through. The kids stayed in the car and I, following directions, got out to ask the attendant if pre-k kids could receive a free lunch. She was standing well away from the table where a sign read, TAKE THE BAG YOU TOUCH. “Of course,” she said, “they are students too.” So, I touched no other bags (though the temptation to riffle through and get the best ones was strong), and picked two random brown bag lunches, one each for my kids, with a yummy bag of Doritos on top. “Preschool kids get lunches too!” I said coming back to the car, but Bear had seen the bags in my hands, (a sack lunch to me, a treasure to him), and his face lit up with a type of joy I hadn’t seen since the stay home order was issued. This was a joy of feeling special in his community, like someone from the outside world cared for him, and loved him enough to make him a wonderful treat. And that is true. All over California, people who care about kids are making millions of sack lunches that means someone loves them, is looking forward to seeing them again, and wants them to be well until then. I rarely admit defeat. Failure is the kind of thing I keep to myself. I try to learn from failure, but I don't like to talk about it - failure has the tendency to be embarrassing, but nobody can win them all.
A few days ago I went to visit a new dog. I did a social-distancing meeting with a rescue in the Central Valley. (The kids and Jesse stayed home to minimize the COVID risk.) There was a thunderstorm passing overhead and a foot of water in the corners of the parking lot. Piper, a pretty German Shorthair/Pit mix, with a nice coat and floppy ears, took no notice of the thunder and jumped out of the car. We played ball. She sat, she walked on a leash (not well I admit), but she jumped around happily and played in the water. I did a couple tests I thought my kids might put her through: pulled her ears, pinched her skin, dropped a loud bowl, took her food, took her toy, squeezed her paws. She passed them all with flying colors, so I brought her home. She was not here 24 hours. The first evening was great. She was calm and we introduced the kids slowly and didn't let them bug her, just a couple pats and coos. She slept all night in her crate. The next morning we took Piper out for a walk in the snow and she had a great time flushing the quail out of a fallen oak branch. (There goes our wildlife I thought. Hopefully the cougars stay away too.) We came inside. She laid down and looked out the window. She was very happy... until we gave her a bed. She nipped at Graham when he touched the corner of her bed. He'd just given her a treat so, maybe thought he had a treat. For the next hour, I watched her very closely. When Graham or Bear walked by she would turn her head away and lay her ears back. It was very subtle, but she wasn't comfortable. I have to tell you, my children were not even acting like themselves. There was no screaming, no gleeful nude running, no towing one another around with a towel, or traipsing around with a sheet over their head, no wrestling or throwing pillows. Our house was as calm as it ever gets, and still Piper was feeling uncomfortable. I decided we'd all better go for a walk. I dressed the kids in their snow gear. I put Piper on a leash. We went outside. Bear grabbed his dump truck and drove it across the gravel. Piper freaked, barked and hid behind me. I could feel her breath on my leg and I nearly had a heart attack. We went into the back yard. Bear went down the slide. She barked at him again. Not a playful bark. She was terrified to a degree that I was not trained or willing to work with. My kids were scared too. Broken hearted, for the friendship that could have been, I called the rescue and returned Piper two hours later. Somehow, I should make a positive experience of this. I think the best thing, is to let this roll off my back. I was assured that Piper was good with kids, and I went off my assessment and that of the rescue. Aside from taking the kids with me, what else could have been done? I certainly feel lame for brining home the wrong dog. I think a lot of my friends in business, and friends homeschooling, and friends who are bored and lonely, are kind of grappling with their own barking dog right now. There is a lot of pressure to perform, to achieve, to meet the moment, to become new right now, to be productive, start something and grow, ect. And if they aren't doing something major, or putting something out there, or changing their business model, or the kids are getting too much screen time, they feel bad, like a failure. I say, to hell with that. Relax. Let some of this free time roll off your back. It's not necessarily what we do to meet this moment, aside from staying connected with friends and family virtually, but what we'll do when this settles. How will we rebuild? How will we reconnect. What lessons about ourselves have we learned and what can we employ towards a better future? This is more a time for reflection than a time for productivity. So, give yourself a break and I will too. Name, Age/Generation, Profession, Location Where you Reside:
Kelly Curtis, 36, Small Business Owner - Photography, Amador, CA What is your greatest challenge right now and how are you working to overcome it? Finding purpose, missing my family and friends. Calling mom every day, writing a blog, trying to keep up with exercise. I am very worried about the possible loss of lives in my community and family due to COVID-19. I am concerned that our federal leadership did not project a serious concern of a pandemic early-on and thus, our country is largely uninformed about the reality, and potential damage a novel virus can cause in humans and our nation. We have only begun our crisis here in California. Today is April 1, 2020. What will be our greatest challenge in a year and how can we overcome it? People we know and love will die due to COVID-19. We will always wonder, could this have been prevented? What could we have done better? Who is to blame? Is someone to blame? We will have to find compassion, remember our humanity, and dig deep to set aside our differences, and rebuild our families, our friendships, our communities, our government, our economy and our local economy. How will our children remember this time? Have you ever lived through anything like this before? 9/11 is the closest I have come to experiencing a national tragedy such as this. At time of writing, we have lost over 4,000 American lives due to COVID-19 - more than 9/11 and the number will climb for a long. Worldwide we have lost over 44,000. Death on this scale is hard to grasp and it will continue in our psyche for a long time. Anything else you'd like to add? Love is the glue that holds us together. Cliche, I know, but what else do we have? The stay home order in California - now extended through the and of April - is starting to look like an extended weekend. I'm not sure if this is good or bad. In some ways this is good: lots of quality time, some progress on long-standing jobs around the house, and tens of hours spent outside adventuring the neighborhood. In other ways it's bad. Our days often lack structure, but we are finding a rhythm. Quantity time doesn't always equal quality. (Anyone who's had physical fights with their siblings or best friends as kids knows what I'm taking about. I had a conversation today with Barrett about what it would mean if Graham became paralyzed in one the tackles into the toy box over a special monster truck.) We find meaning in every day. That's all that matters. I wouldn't like to be quarantined with anyone else. (I do admit, I have fantasized about being totally alone on a deserted island. I tried hiding in the bathroom, but it wasn't the same and the whole family thought I was in there for a ridiculous about of time doing what I needed to do, but I was really just looking up local dogs for adoption and watching silly cat videos.) At the end of the day though, I'm happy to nuke another hotdog, build another Lego masterpiece, read another chapter of Dink, and watch the weather from our window. My kids are watching Frozen. I had my doubts about this movie. I tend to doubt most things this commercial, but the movie is visually captivating with some cool songs and lots of heart. However, this is not a Frozen review.
What I’m trying to say, is that it takes all my mysterious powers, not to pour another cup of coffee, snuggle on the couch with my kids, and escape into a magical world. Instead, I’ve toasted another bagel and sat down to type. (Whether or not you believe COVID-19 to be a threat, we can all agree the QUARIENTINE-15 is real.) On March 5th, my family ventured to South Lake Tahoe for a few days vacation. Side note here: This was as the COVID-19 situation grew in Washington. We also had one case in Placer County, where I grew up – Go Hillmen. At that time the U.S. had 14 nursing home deaths and a handful of positive tests. As I write, the U.S. now has over 140,000 cases – more than any other country – and more than 2,500 deaths. Over 300 people died in New York last night. Today is March 30, 2020.) In Tahoe, we had some last days of skiing and tried to stay away from gatherings of people (lets be honest, other kids) and when we said goodbye to Grandma Liz we had the feeling we probably wouldn’t see her for a couple months. Barrett went back to school for one day before we pulled him. Then his preschool closed. Everyone would be staying home. While on vacation we attended a timeshare sales pitch for the “free” money. There was hand sanitizer everywhere and the sales guys were elbow bumping in an effort not to spread germs. Now, they are closed, all those people laid-off. We went to the little gift shop to spend our money and bought some ski pants, stuffed animals for the kids, (the one Bear burned on the fireplace) and finally, some of the inspiration stones that Bear had been eyeing for a year. Both kids chose a stone called BROTHER. Cute. While we were looking at the stones, Graham played grab-stone and it was hard to track of what he had in his hands. Meanwhile Barrett danced with his new Foxy. There were lots of breakables in the gift shop and it was quickly approaching the time of “we-need-to-get-the-hell-outof-here, before-we-buy-half-that-shelf.” I did my best to make sure Graham’s hands were free of contraband, and the clerk said she thought he’d put everything back. Well, he hadn’t. We got back to the room and discovered a little blue stone inscribed with SUSTAIN, in gold lettering, in his pocket. I was exhausted in the way parents of young children tend to be at 7 PM and I succumbed to the fact that my child had received his first five-finger discount. (I know some of you are thinking, you should have made him take it back, apologize, return the item, but he’s two, and anyone who has packed a week’s worth of stuff and left a hotel room by 10 AM the next morning know that when it’s time to go, it’s just time to go. Sorry everyone.) Anyways, I remember looking at the blue stone and thinking, SUSTAIN? What’s the point of that? That’s not even inspiring. Why couldn’t he have swiped PATIENCE? Yesterday, I rediscovered the little stones in the crevices of my car and I came across SUSTAIN and knew exactly why this little stone had chosen to come into our lives. (Maybe that’s a cop-out for the theft, I don’t know.) Yesterday, President Trump extended our stay-home timeframe through the end of April. I expected this and expect to go longer, especially in our rural communities where we haven’t been hit yet, but certainly will be, probably a couple weeks after the cities. Staying home is physically exhausting. Lots more cooking. Lots more cleaning. I might break down and wear shoes to save my feet from the stray Legos. It’s mentally tiring. I’m used to stimulating interaction with other small businesses. It’s emotionally wrought with concern for ourselves, our kids, and our parents. Spiritually... I have done ten minuets of yoga since this all started. I felt it yesterday, cranky, tired, burned-out, depressed. And yet, SUSTAIN we must. We’ll get thorough this and we’ll remember how we felt and how we acted. SUSTAIN makes sense. It’s taking a deep breath and just unloading the dishwasher. It’s doing yoga even if the kids have to watch some more TV. It’s creating my own projects to help document the COVID-19 crisis for my children. It’s vacuuming the Legos only some of the time. It’s smiling and being nice, going outside for fresh air, and bowing to humility. I think next time I feel overwhelmed, I’m going to lay a blanket on my lawn (in a horrible state I might add) and look up at the trees they way I did when I was young and needed a reminder – SUSTAIN – We'll be ok. As the U.S. COVID-19 crisis develops, I want to learn more about our human experience. I invite people from my family, community, and beyond to take this 5-10 minute survey. I ask that we record our experience and think about rebuilding when this is over. Results will be shared and archived here.
This survey can be completed alone, but I also encourage people to work with a spouse, parent, grandparent, child, roommate, or friend. Open communication keeps us bonded. I am proud to call this woman my best-friend. She's been my bestie since preschool and she has been a leader and an inspiration to me for many years. Now more than ever, I admire he positivity and strength. Name, Profession, County where you reside:
Christina Cunningham, ICU RN, Placer County, CA What is your greatest challenge right now and how are you working to overcome it? Dealing with the ever-changing requirements and recommendations that we health care workers walk into each day. Every time we report to work, we have to adjust our PPE usage (How do we conserve what we have? Disinfect between patients? Who do we isolate? Ect.) Each day, we adjust how we care for the COVID-19 patients, either “rule out” cases or “positive.” We hear how we need to isolate, how we need to group our 2 patients when we make assignments. Do you group together 2 “rule out patients” - putting them each at risk because potentially one has it and the other doesn't? Is it fair for an RN to take care of 2 “rule outs?” Or do you pair one “rule out patient” with another ICU patient admitted for something unrelated and put them at risk? What about the patients that are immunocompromised? Neutropenic precautions? Elderly? Unfortunately, that is the typical population of patients in the ICU to begin with! It is so hard to make each assignment "fair" or even logical because no matter how you pair them, someone is at risk- whether it be patient or health care worker. My second opinion, regarding my biggest challenge is equally important. I, as any healthcare worker, walk in everyday, leaving my family at home, to care for someone else's family member. Yes, this is the normal part of the day, just like any other day. But now, it's different, because not only are we managing COVID-19, but we are managing so many emotions from our co-workers, patients and their families. We have tired, scared, nervous health care workers who, ultimately, do want to be there because this is our calling. But we also sometimes want to stay home with our families and not put ourselves, or them, at risk. Then we have scared patients and families (mind you who are not allowed to visit because you can only come into the hospital on very special circumstances) who are watching the TV and scared out of their minds. I try to be level headed, calm, rational and lastly, but most importantly - empathetic and kind. I try to do what's right by the hospital, by my co-workers, by my patients, ect. Then I come home and do what's right by my family - still be emotionally, mentally and physically there for my young children and be a homeschool mom to my kindergartener. I try to be an involved, understanding and loving wife to my husband who stays home everyday to care for our girls and manage the home life. Ultimately, I want to look back at all of this and say, "I did my best in all aspects of my life at that stressful and trying time." What will be our greatest challenge in a year and how can we overcome it? This is hard, I would like to say... this will all be behind us in one year and we will be back to our normal lives. But, this is a time for us to learn and prepare for the next time this may occur – hopefully never in our lifetime. I want all of us - healthcare, communities, local business and the government to hopefully look back and actually learn how we can better prepare ourselves and future generations. Have you ever lived through anything like this before? Absolutely not! Anything else you'd like to add? I'm nervous for what the next month or so holds. I'm nervous to be in a situation where my patient needs to be intubated to live, but we have decided because they are over 70, that the 55 year-old instead gets the ventilator. My mother, her husband, my aunts and uncles, my best friends’ parents... they are all at risk. It breaks my heart that if they were in the position, it may be them that we have to let die as peacefully as we can allow. I want to end this on a positive note. Please know how thankful I am to have the career where I am able to make a difference and help in a time of crisis. I am so proud of the job I do everyday. I am proud of the people I work with. Yes, from what we have seen and learned from other countries, the worst is yet to come. I am ready to battle this damn virus with the awesome people around me at work. We will overcome as long as we stay flexible, adaptable, positive and compassionate. One thing I've always loved about my dad is that he's an eternal optimist. As a teenager he would comfort me with a hug and a simple, "It's going to be ok. All will be just fine." So far, he's been spot-on. He also maintains a sense of humor in the face of adversity, and he's had plenty in his lifetime. When asked what he believes is the greatest problem facing our people right now, he asnswers, "I'm concerned our president has worse dementia than I do." He admits to voting for President Trump. My dad has been a republican his entire life, and now, he wants to see a woman president. Name, Profession, County Where you Reside:
Mike Curtis, Retired Auto Technician, Placer, California What is your greatest challenge right now and how are you working to overcome it? I voted for Trump because he said he was going to clean the swamp, but now he’s made a new swamp around him. I’m looking for a woman to be president. What will be our greatest challenge in a year and how can we overcome it? I’m afraid of our social security benefits being changed, or limited. We barely make it on our income, but Jean and I seem to be fine. We did a large shopping for groceries two days ago at our Safeway. We seem to be fine, but I'm concerned that our president has worse dementia than I do. Have you ever lived through anything like this before? I have lived through lots of different things. When I was 4 I had polio. Luckily it was non paralytic. Then I was sent to Vietnam where we had no business. There, they told me, "no matter what, don't shoot the rubber trees." I've lived through the hodge-podge of life and different jobs, but other than basic economic ups and downs, no, I've never lived through anything like this. Anything else you'd like to add? I’m a concerned citizen about the state of polities and the effect its having on me as a senior citizen. My mom has a sixth sense about stuff. I'm not always super-good at taking her advice because I totter the line between GEN-Y (Why?) and Millennial - (take out please!). But in early February she told me she was on the way to Costco to stock up on some freezer items in case she needed to shelter at home in light of the growing epidemic in China. I was way behind, "What epidemic?" And so I turned on the news. A week later she called me. She works in a hospital. "We're going to have a mask shortage." And so I began to prepare myself and my family for a long stretch of hanging out at home. My point is, she was weeks ahead of most Americans, including our leadership. Even before Trump started assuring Americans that everything was going to be fine, she predicted a pandemic of astonishing devastation. Elizabeth Ann Curtis, Clinical Laboratory Technologist, Placer County, CA
What is your greatest challenge and what are you doing to overcome it? My greatest challenge is being in the house by myself. I miss going out. I want to go to Home Depot so I have a project, but no. I’m going to meet some friends for a social distancing hike. I can’t stay cooped up forever. I have tried morning exercise, working in the yard, then taking a walk with my dog, Kokomo. I have checked in with my older neighbors and have gone on-line to get a few groceries with another neighbor. Also, I'm calling a few friends and messaging others. What will be our greatest challenge in a year and how will we overcome it? Hopefully this virus will go away when it gets hot in California and things will turn around quickly, but if the virus continues to ravage the world as it is now, the world will be someplace I won't recognize. Will 80-90 % of the people be gone? Those that will be left will have a difficult time. Have you ever lived through anything like this before? Never in my lifetime have I lived through such an unknown enemy. My mother stockpiled groceries during the Cuban Missile Crisis, but we could clearly understand and see our threat. Anything to add? The only thing to add, is to make my friends who either don’t understand or are in denial, see the danger we are in. Any one else remember your parent's taking home video as a child? (Or a certain person following people around, repeatedly saying, "The cameraman").
Well, I'm the camerawoman, and here are some videos documenting our days at home during the stay home order issued in California. Regrettably, Week 1 is incomplete. I had some dark days as the COVID-19 stay home orders were first issued. We had about a foot of snow, which was fun, but limited our movement outside and just made me feel cold. The snow dropped trees and our power was out 48 hours. We were prepared, but as the COVID-19 crisis unfolded before our eyes, I had a sense of foreboding like never before. To top it off, the only powder days of the year were cancelled as our local ski resorts closed. My entire winter identity is wrapped in being a cool snowboarder, so this was especially heartbreaking. I had to resort to sledding which I am not nearly as good at, and only made me feel like a 400 year old turtle. Usually, I cope with depression by thinking of things to do to with others, further my business, and keep me busy. Every idea I had was shot down in a matter of hours: photos for local businesses to sell products online? Elopements and vow renewals? News photography in harder hit areas such as Sacramento? All no. It took the power coming on and the sun coming out for me to realize that the best thing I could do, would be to expand on what I already do best. (Documenting my children's lives, and now our family experience, with the growing COVID-19 crisis.) Once I started, I felt better. It game me purpose. Like many others, sharing online has been a good way to feel connected to others. Here is a list of events that were not documented because I hadn't yet settled into staying home, figuratively and literally. - Cooking on the woodstove during the power outage. - St. Patricks Day Four Leaf Clover painting - Mother Son Dance because ours was cancelled - we ate BBQ chips and drank Capri Sun. - Heck, thats about it. Not too bad. Enjoy our Week 1 Video. All the Best, Kelly Stay home, save a life. I can't tell you how many times I've lay awake at night wishing I could call my grandma and ask her, "penny for your thoughts," as she used to ask me. I've wanted to ask for marriage counseling, cooking tricks, travel inspiration, and raising siblings. (Sometime, ask my mom to tell you about the time she was wrestling with her brother. She fell off the bed and pretended to be dead causing quite the ruckus.)
Now, I can only guess at my Gram's answers. I did ask her once if she was afraid to die and she said no. I asked her if she had any regrets and she said no. She would do it all again, just the same. I might not be able to phone my grandparents (let's be real, a video chat session would be out of the question), but I can phone my parents. I am so fortunate - I can call both my parents and what better time than now? I'll share their answers shortly. I'm also asking these questions of others in our community (elders, medical professionals, government officials, small businesses, friends, ect.) I'll archive and share the answers as we go. Without further adieu, below are 5 questions to ask your elders today. Best to call them, but this can be done by video-chat, phone, or copy/pasted into an email. 1) Name, Profession, State and County where you reside: 2) What is your greatest challenge right now and how are you working to overcome it? 3) What will be our greatest challenge in a year and how can we overcome it? 4) Have you ever lived through anything like this before? 5) Anything else you'd like to add? Please confirm its ok for to share your answers publicly. All the best, Kelly Stay home, save a life. I’m lots of Irish and much American and so I get fired up and don’t like to follow rules. (Some of you will remember the great gas-pump debacle of my 15th year). I spend too much money and want to go to the Dollar Store for cheap art supplies, but have to keep reminding myself that I have everything I need. I am the last person who should give advice.
Alas, I do try to reflect every now and then, and seek the advice of people who know better. (How I wish my grandmother was here! Can I call yours?) I try to learn from my mistakes. If I look back at the bigger mistakes of my lifetime (you know, beyond the dumb stuff I did like trying to float the North Fork of the American in an inner tube), they stem from a lack of compassion and an abundance of selfishness. Maybe I’m a socialist, but probably a Buddhist, or most likely I’m a kid (haha) who just wants the people I love and the people you love to be happy and healthy. I think that means I’m human. Why do people still think the novel coronavirus is a hoax? (Even Trump has admitted that it’s here, even if he can’t get the name right). Disbelievers are scared. They are in denial. They don’t want it to be true because it’s too frightening to believe that people we know and love will die due to COVID-19. We don’t need nuclear attacks to destroy us – our own ignorance will do that – but that’s ok – I can relate to being scared, and so I'll try on compassion and understanding for size (I’m not a saint – if a family member of mine can’t get a ventilator, I'm going to be pretty angry that some people just couldn't stay home). We are all in different stages of grief over this upheaval in our lives. We will volley back and forth on the Kubler-Ross scale for the next weeks, months and years, and life will be forever changed for our generation and that of our children. What do I want my children to remember from all of this? That I stayed calm, that I forgave (I’ll do my best), that I tried to protect our health, that I cared for my parents and my community, and most of all that I looked forward to a year from now when we start rebuilding and I kept compassion and understanding in my heart. We will need to come back together and heal and the beginning will be compassion. For those of us who still don’t know what that word means – its big in concept and length – just try to see it from someone else’s shoes, or whatever the phrases is. Today I’ll try to understand why my 5 year old is experimenting with throwing stuff on top of the fireplace (more on this later), why the little one is pulling his big brother’s hair, and why my husband wants to go outside first thing in the morning. (I’m a late morning person, myself.) I’ll start at home and work my compassion ring out from there and I’ll check out the Kubler-Ross scale of grief and think about how this will all look a year from now. Stay home, save a life. All the Best, Kelly Afraid. Angry. Confused. Worried. Stressed.
In a matter of days our lives have been turned upside down. Our towns have been made into ghost towns. Booming new businesses and growing establishments have shut their doors. They are waiting at home with bills to pay and no answers. No answers for months. Our health is at risk, even the health of young, healthy people. Our lives are at risk, just as much as our livelihood and yet we are social creatures. We need each other to survive, but we are all assumed contagious. And so we should be. I might try to drive an hour and meet up with my 70 year-old mother for a walk in which we stay 6 feet apart. I guess we’ll do air hugs. At least I’ll get to look in her eyes. We’ve been having technological difficulties with voice chat. I can’t even help her with her phone. Otherwise, we are staying home, missing our friends, watching the charts and the news with wide eyes. I admit I’m frightened. I have to be here for my kids. I need my husband and partner. We are 36 and 41 respectively. It looks like about 1 of 8 people in our age group who get sick with COVID-19 will need to be hospitalized. Men are twice as likely to die per results in China and Italy. I should be citing news sources. I could, but go look it up yourself. Our local hospital has 52 beds. The rest of this is speculation: I don’t know how many of those are ICU beds. Maybe 10? I don’t know how many ventilators that equates to. I’m wagering less than 52. It looks like less than 52 people in our county of Amador (pop. 38,626) can get sick at the same time. (If anyone can get me these exact numbers at Sutter Amador, I'll write an update.) In Italy they are preparing plans to decide who gets a ventilator. They are doing that in California too, but no one is talking about it, yet. And so, daily life goes on. It’s looking quite different for most people. For us, it looks a lot the same, but without visits from our friends and family. My husband is working from home. We have enough food for month. After that we will move on to Nutella, condensed milk, and Skippy. I'm sure the kids wont mind, but they might balk at the quinoa. (Realistically, we will probably brave a runner to the store before dipping into our fallout food, but who knows. If people don't stay home, this will look like fallout in a matter of weeks/months.) Right now, my kids are watching an Episode of Dora the Explorer and then we will go outside to play in the last of the snow. So far, there has already been a physical fight over stuffed animals. Yesterday, someone got bit. I might have yelled, but maybe that was the day before. I’m sure I wore earplugs for a time. Jesse and I are getting along well today, playing on the same team, but he’s been outside working most the morning. That’s all for now, but I’d like to ponder the future of this blog. I believe it will wander, but I’ll try to post often, for my own record, for my contribution to art and the future. Maybe I'll work in some interviews with our public, our elders, my friends. Maybe I’ll share my latest bread baking fail, or something cute my kids did. Or maybe I’ll just continue to jabber without citing sources. Lots of people don’t believe in sources right now anyways. On that note, most of the blabbing I’ve done here is referenced from the updates the San Francisco Chronicle is providing here. All the best, Kelly I'm taking some time off this week to create for my kids. This is dedicated to Barrett on the eve of his fifth birthday and Graham, newly age two. May they forever know they are loved. |