Art in the Time of Quarantine

Time. Time is one of the threads that everyone seems to touch on these days in their tweets and posts. We have long been guided by schedules of work and school and other constructs, and then this virus hit and everything changed, slowed down, stopped, went out of sync. 

Each of us is going through this surreal shared moment in time, viewing the world through our own lenses, with our unique combinations of challenges and privileges, maybe sharing that view with the people we are living with or talking to. My experience is enmeshed with that of the kids. Most of the day we’re all doing our “work,” but then we have a lot of dinner-table conversations, and I cherish those, a chance to check in with one another after the day of work and school work—a time to ask about “How Things Are Going.” 

Some days the answer is: not great, frustrated, scared, lonely, restless, angry. Some days the answer is better, ok, not bad, better. So much depends on who we have (or have not)  interacted with, and how we have related with them during that day. So much depends on what we’ve heard of the news. So much depends on how the kids are doing.

When trauma typically happens at schools (and the current generation of elementary and high school students have had too much experience with this), we call in counselors. We have talking circles and support groups. We make allowances for ordinary responsibilities to allow some room for processing and healing. We try to help the kids because most of them don’t have the tools they need. Right now, those systems are not really in place to help them—even with teachers and parents trying the best they can. 

The kids have been doing the best they can, and I’m of the philosophy that we need to temper our expectations right now. If many of us, the adults, are not ok, how can we expect the kids to be? 

So they do their homework and they miss their friends; they try to connect online and on the phone, watch movies and read, and have their own creative ways of dealing with it all. 

My son is a musician and composer, and he decided when the shelter-in-place started that he would write a new song approximately every other day. 

I’m reminded of a quote from Neil Gaiman’s keynote address for the May 17, 2012 commencement ceremony at The University of the Arts. He said: 

“Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.

“Make good art.”

This is something I often quote to my kids. Creativity is a tool we have when we need it, when we can use it. It’s not always possible. Sometimes we have to wait for life to give us a window. Sometimes we have to make that window. Sometimes we make good art.

Everyone is wondering when things will go back to “normal.” Will they ever?

I don’t think we can know what normal is going to look like. I do believe that this time will irrevocably transform our children and what they do to shape their future in ways that we cannot even imagine. I feel like the things people are doing right now to express themselves, to connect creatively with one another, to be as present for one another as possible—these will be the touchstones we have to remind us of this time and why we reshaped the future accordingly, hopefully for the the better. 

Week 2: Shared

TGIF. I’m tired. I know many of us are so, so tired, trying to keep it all together with anxious teenagers and attention-seeking toddlers and hurting bodies and frantic brain weasels and stressed partners and nervous students and struggling friends and hurting communities and ailing parents and compromised immune systems and the list goes on and on. 

This week felt like a month, every long day rolling into the next: nudge kids about homework, do the dayjob, laundry, clean, cook, make sure kids are getting enough sleep, dayjob, feed the cats, homework, feed the rats, check in on friends, make time to talk to the kids about their feelings, clean, cook, break-up teenage bickering, check in on family, laundry, dayjob, homework, exercise, watch the news, clean, sleep, check social media, watch a movie, laundry, dayjob, cook, break-up teenage bickering, try to make time to be a good partner, read a blog, read the news, read a story, laundry, check in on friends, clean, dayjob, homework. 

Rinse, repeat.

This pandemic means new routines in our jobs, our parenting, our relationships, our support systems—an evolving “new normal,” and through it all so many thoughts and feelings, so many fears and concerns. Last week felt saturated in fear, this week was a little different. It felt like a reshuffling. Less panic and more…planning?

Fear is what we don’t know. What do we know and what can we do? Are we more grounded? Is this a calm before the bigger storm? Maybe?

I’m trying to keep hold of the positive in these moments, and it’s not easy because of work and hormones and homework and anxiety and cabin-fever and news and numbers and so many emotions.

Tread carefully, make coffee, hug often, love, listen, laugh, be present, be patient, be forgiving, be kind, be generous, be grateful for everyone who is working to keep us safe and healthy.

Rinse, repeat.

There are moments of beauty I am grateful for: conversations catching up with friends and family, time for a family movie, the gift of time with the kids when they are quite literally forced to be in the house with us.

There are joyful moments in the midst of all this, silly laughing moments or quiet happy moments or shared thoughtful moments. 

That’s the word I keep coming back to…shared. This is an something that a large number of us are sharing all around the world, this experience of having our lives turned upside down, of being confined to our homes for the greater good of our communities large and small, of facing illness and uncertainty and inevitable loss. Certainly other communities and countries are dealing with atrocities and continue to face challenges that are compounded by this virus. Still, this pandemic goes beyond borders, beyond our neighborhoods and cities, states and countries—shared.

Related to that is the ability many of us have to connect with one another within this global experience…to share online what we are sharing in life. By no means is it equal or fair or all encompassing. But if we think about the number of people who can connect even in this quarantined time—it’s extraordinary. The ability to see what’s happening in China, to be inspired by neighborhoods in Italy, to learn from scientists in France—shared. 

That word is what I’m holding onto, and all that is contained in that word: shared. Of course we want to avoid sharing the deadly contagion. But we do want to learn from and help one another, by sharing resources and information, experiences and assistance. 

What a strange, surreal time this is. Shared.

I’m going to finish my chamomile tea and go to sleep, having finally jotted down a few of the thoughts thrashing about in my brain.

I hope that you and your loved ones are safe and healthy. xxo

Touring our new cookbook — and spending time with family

Thank you to everyone who came out to Astoria Bookshop for our New York launch and to the Book Cellar for our Chicago launch! Both bookshops were wonderful and we had a terrific turnout! I meant to write sooner, but we’ve been bouncing from one thing to the next for the last month.

We brought the kids for the NYC launch, as well as batches of Dante’s Nine Layers of Torture Bars and Pythagorean Serum cocktails to share with the audience.

At The Astoria Bookshop with Dingding Hu (who makes a fabulous Janet), our illustrator for FORKING GOOD.
It was nice to be able to share our NYC party with the kids this time. It’s not often that they’re all able to travel with us.
Thank you to everyone who came out to celebrate with us!

Inspired by Dingding’s costume, Stephen and I decided to dress as a gender-swapped Michael and Janet for the Chicago party…

So thrilled to have coworker friends from NIIT show up! <3
My Soul Squad. I love these people wholeheartedly.

The Book Cellar featured a special The Good Place-inspired cocktail created by Stephen that was not in the book: French Vanilla Antimatter! And we brought more Dante’s Nine Layers of Torture Bars to share with our guests.

***

In the last month, FORKING GOOD made it to the Semifinal Round of the 2019 Goodreads Choice Awards for “Best Food & Cookbooks!” We also had some nice press, including this featured review by Foreword:

An extended inside joke that show fans will delight in adding to their shelves, Forking Good is a comfort-food laden, lightly philosophical cookbook worth indulging in.

We were included in this feature, “Pop culture cookbooks are one thing Millennials aren’t killing,” by Danielle Zimmerman for Hypable:

We’ve exhausted so many avenues of celebrating the fandoms we love that it was only natural for us to turn to food next. After all, fandom and pop culture already nourish our souls, so why not our bodies as well?

Stephen and I also did a fun interview for i8tonight, which is their own culinary spin on the Proust Questionnaire:

Where is your favorite place to eat?

Valya: Honestly, I love to eat at home—ours and other people’s. I appreciate the intimacy and personality. Outside of home dining, we really love our neighborhood Ethiopian restaurant, Ras Dashen. Also high on our list is Band of Bohemia, such wonderful food and cocktails.

Stephen: As an East Coaster relocated to Chicago, I thank the heavens for Jimmy’s Pizza Cafe, which is the place to get real New York pizza in town.

You can read the rest here.

Meanwhile, in the kid arena, there was a lockdown at my older kids’ high school. That morning, I got a text from my son telling me that their high school was on lockdown, and it was not a drill. My son and daughter, both in the high school, proceeded to relay information to us via text about what was happening as the students shared updates with one another around the school.

As it turns out, the lockdown was prompted by two pellet guns brought in by students, and the school seems to have dealt with it safely and efficiently. Still, it was terrifying to be a parent helplessly waiting for information about your children’s safety… in school, where they should be safe. I am so grateful that all the kids are ok, and I could not help but think of the hundreds of parents across this country who have sat frozen with feelings of helplessness and fear.

We talked about it at length at dinner, and the kids were mostly calm and pragmatic, discussing places where they think security could be better, praising teachers for staying calm and helping, relaying the fears and concerns of their peers.

This is their normal. This is anything but normal.

I’m still processing.

***

And speaking of parenting, there was the time last week when I was tucking in my youngest, and she said something sweet about hoping to be a mom like me when she grows up. I told her thank you, but it’s also ok if she decides to be a cool aunt instead. She certainly doesn’t have to decide now.

She looked at me with that intense Lana gaze for a minute and then said, “I see what you’re doing, Mom, trying not to push me in a direction. I know how you think. I KNOW where you get your parenting from. I READ your parenting book. The whole thing.”

Then she settled into her pillow and said (very pleased with herself), “I guess I know famous people too.” And went to sleep.

***

Thanksgiving behind us and the winter holidays ahead, I’m looking forward to some vacation days — cozy afternoons baking with the kids, coffee dates with friends, catching up with reading beside the tree, catching up with writing under quilts, and so much cuddling on the couch.

I hope that your December is also cozy and full of things that make you feel warm and happy and loved.