My Story
During the 2020 global pandemic, like so many other parents, I experienced the fatigue of quarantine. My school age children were virtual learning and my husband was also working from home (and still is). My roles as mother and wife quickly morphed into full time educator, Phys Ed teacher, IT expert, chef, cleaning maniac, snack police and so much more.
I am a licensed hairdresser in New Jersey and New York. I had wonderful experiences before I had children, working at the student clinic at the Aveda Institute New York, and at Paul Labrecque’s salons on the upper east and upper west sides of Manhattan. I continued my career at Salon Concrete in Red Bank, New Jersey because I was so drawn to the Vidal Sassoon technical cutting education and leadership training that the owner, Christine Zilinski provides to her staff. I decided though after my third son was born it was time to focus on my family and temporarily leave the salon world to be what I call a “full time volunteer care giver”.
Pre-pandemic, I was working part time remotely for Salon Concrete. My favorite youngest son went to kindergarten, and the salon was opening a new location at the famous Bell Labs building (now renamed Bell Works) in my hometown of Holmdel, New Jersey. It was built by the renowned architect Eero Saarinen…worth the visit if you’re a lover of architecture! I was developing training manuals, e-courses, editing website and social media content, constructing marketing emails to guests, helping develop a new employee compensation plan, creating presentations for classes and staff meetings. Unfortunately in March 2020, the owner had to shut down operations completely and I was suddenly out of work. By the time businesses started to reopen, the number of people that could be employed at the salon was a skeleton crew.
Looking back, I was so overwhelmed by all of these changes, but totally unaware, numb even, to the effects on my mental health. I tried to do all the healthy things. I made soups, varenyky (called pyrohy or pierogi as well, depending on what region of Ukraine or Poland your family is from) and gnocchi from scratch (my grandparents were from Ukraine and my husband is half Italian after all)! I stopped watching the anxiety-inducing news and scrolling through the craziness happening on social media. I took my children for bike rides and long runs by our house at the Manasquan Reservoir (until the parks were shut down). We started running in the streets, which was under (halted) construction. We played board games. We watched Netflix. We read…a lot. My favorite oldest son played his guitar and we listened. We did puzzles.
One puzzle, which started out fun, turned into an obsession for us. Bleary-eyed, we would reorganize the pieces ad nauseum and would celebrate even getting a few pieces each day. It was a mood roller coaster for sure. When we finally completed the puzzle months later, I immediately decided to paint over it because I never wanted to see the image on the puzzle again. I still have the puzzle sitting on our piano. I am not sure if I want to burn it or frame it.
The process of painting the puzzle was calming, meditative even. I didn’t care about the outcome. The anxiety weighing on me felt lighter when I was painting and I actually felt hopeful for the first time in a really, really long time. It felt productive and purposeful. I felt some joy, curious, excited that I just tapped into something promising...I just didn’t know what it was yet! Everything before that point felt very dark, grim, never-ending, monotonous; a perpetually cloudy day. I remember there were a few days I would shower and put my pajamas on at 5:00pm, just wanting to get to the next day. I was wishing the (precious) day away. That in itself felt horrible knowing people around the world were suffering, dying and wishing for just one more day. So then the guilt would bubble up for me. This is no way to live. I was not alone. My loving and affectionate husband is awesome. My kids keep things wonderfully chaotic. In quarantine, I was lonely. I wasn’t alone, but I was definitely lonely.
I realized how I had been ignoring this need to create since my third son was born. The puzzle painting launched the fleeting thought that I should make quarantine art daily and create an account on Instagram to journal the process. Art heals, doesn’t it? When I announced to my family that my only new year’s resolution was to spend time every day creating some kind of art, I think I was met with dismissive looks. They probably thought to themselves this is a whim that will only last a week or two. But then, my favorite middle son held me accountable and would ask to see my posts. I noticed my kids started spending more time with their sketchbooks too!
It is so true that energy flows where attention goes. Once I just started the thing, momentum took hold. Before I knew it, I was dusting off my art supplies and reorganizing space in our basement to make room for a part of my identity I unintentionally pushed away for 20 years. Oh my goodness, it is so hard to believe it was that long! 20 years of not stepping foot in a darkroom, not painting or drawing except for haircut headsheets in cosmetology school. I was looking at my old sketchbooks, paintings, work and books from my college days at Rutgers School of Business and Mason Gross School of the Arts (shout out to class of 2000; woot! woot!)… and felt a profound sense of anticipation. It was mixed with grief and sadness too. Sometimes just starting is the most difficult part.
Over the course of 2021, my creative juices ebbed and flowed. I realized you have to get on the creative freight train when it stops at your station, because it will leave without you and the next one might not be coming for, like, another 20 years! Overall, pursuing this art journey has been therapy for me; it got me through many dark days and still serves me well. I find it hard to believe anyone will come out of 2020 and 2021 without some mental health concerns. Whether you are a creator or collector, I think art is the unsung hero of the pandemic…well maybe toilet paper too, but definitely art. It got me through.
I look forward to continuing my art journey by making my work accessible to as many people who will receive it. I hope anyone still reading this knows, on some intrinsic synergistic level, I had you in mind when I created each piece. Art really is a conversation and our entire world is a gallery. It is necessary for the health and well being of our culture and the rebirth of our spirit. I hope you enjoy my work; I am so glad you’re here!
