We go to the stores, and the shoppers all look like bandits, their features hidden behind masks, faceless bodies milling around. We go online to meet our work colleagues and all we see are faces. No bodies.
This is life during lockdown, during restriction, during a time of confusion, fear and limited freedom. And these are the letters I wrote during that time.† It is still that time.
We are in the midst of the tenth plague, as described in the book of Exodus.
Something is broken and the only way to mend the broken thing is with the broken thing itself.
The toughest and most persistent of all plants are the weeds.
The world as we enter post-lockdown is an uneasy place.
It's now been four months since I did any work...
Stillness: a word, an idea that seeks a voice in these tumultuous times.
† These essays were originally sent with my monthly newsletter. If you'd like to receive the newsletter, please click here to register.