My days of confinement

Difficult days that I would never have imagined living.

I returned from Japan at a time when, due to the proximity of China, all of Asia was on alert. I saw the streets full of people with masks, but such a common element in the Asian culture would have been unthinkable to see it in my own country, to see it in Spain.

I perceived it as utopian, something that was unthinkable to become part of my life.

Today I get up, I look for cotton sheets that I have saved and I cut them to give masks to the residents of my town. There are no masks in pharmacies.

I am fortunate to know how to sew, to have material at home to make them. I look at tutorials to see which ones can be the most effective. I try to avoid sadness and be useful in some way.

I have found a model in which a filter can be inserted whereby after using it, the filter is thrown away and then the mask is washed with hot water and bleach. Such a simple thing produces a halo of illusion. I sew white masks among my polka dot fabrics, my flamenco dreams, my broken illusions and my broken hopes.

I look around me…. I need to occupy my mind, I do not want to fall into sadness and still there are times when I collapse.

I think about how lucky I am, I have space, a garden and a terrace where I can sunbathe when the sun lets itself t be seen and I have two dogs that, in addition to caring for me, provide me with distraction. The three of us go everywhere together, if I go up to the terrace my dogs follow me, if I cook they sit next to me, they soften me, I thank them for their company and their loyalty. I can go out and give them a short walk.

I am lucky, there are those who do not have a dog and cannot go out, instead I have space, open air, roof and bread to eat.

I shouldn’t feel sad, should I?

I try, but I don’t always succeed.

I am normally smiling and dreamy, but I live in these continuous highs and lows of spirit. I get frustrated when I see the news from the politicians, all of them with the certainty of collecting their salary and having their bread guaranteed for life, they skip the confinements when they want. I wonder when the artists can earn our bread again. It is not about the period of confinement alone, it is about the after, I get frustrated, I reveal myself, I get angry, I feel discouraged, I am filled with despair.

I try to stay active, exercise, keep my house clean, keep my personal hygiene, my diet balanced and my mind occupied …

I am looking for a way to feel useful, to be able to share what little or much I have with others, so I record videos, because I imagine that there will be many people who feel like me, who need to occupy their mind, keep their spirits up no matter how hard the situation could be, and contribute as far as possible to make this strange moment pass by.

I always liked solitude, I am very independent and loneliness does not hurt me, what really hurts is not being able to see the future of artists with some clarity.

I don’t know what will happen, nor do I know when I will be able to work, I only know that today I try to give what I am and continue dreaming.

Perhaps some reader will identify with me in these moments of emotional ups and downs, we are not iron, we feel and we suffer. Artists have a special sensitivity and that makes us even more vulnerable.

We have a hard time, difficult to assimilate, but what we must never, never, ever allow is to let them steal our dreams.

Keep dreaming and keep dancing because everything will pass …

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