Love in Lockdown
by Simon English
I remember those first days of fear and panic on the streets of Hackney.
Queues wrapped themselves around Lidl and loo roll jokes swamped the Internet.
In the run up to lockdown I had started an affair with a young "River-Man" from Limehouse, named on account of his balconied apartment overlooking the Thames.
Life seemed to swirl around me in a bitter sweet way with some parts totally out of reach and other parts rumbling up to the surface and way too close.
In Lockdown, I did what I always do, in times of crisis.
I draw.
I hand it over.
I open things up.
I try to connect.
I try to disconnect.
I loved the solitude of the studio and the strange freedom that no one (apart from River-Man) could come there.
The large blank walls slowly filled, like an unfurled diary of the subconscious indicating my various positions on the "stay at home" map and occasionally used to send missives out to River-Man.
It felt like my entire life had been preparing for this moment.
I had what I needed, blank paper or the backs of the un-wanted.
I stocked enough drawing pens and used what was left in the paint jars from my work on canvas last year.
I embraced the idea of running low.
It is out of loss that new hopes are born and nothing could feel more relevant as we rebalance an upturned World.