I was looking back at some of my drawings from May 10, 2020. We were still fully masked. There was no opportunity to smell the spring air.
I drew imaginary dinner parties with 6 at the table.
I drew what it felt like before when I could wander the halls of the Met on a Friday evening.
I ate to abate angst and felt bloated but still wobbly.
At night, reviewing the day, I did the same things as yesterday and the same things tomorrow.
On May 25 George Floyd was murdered by a policeman holding his knee to his neck for 9 minutes while this man pleaded for his life.