Pandemic, Pandemonium, Panic Buying

The Great God Pan with Pipes and Crown of Reeds, 2020, charcoal drawing after a 17th century statue in the Parc de Versailles, 17 x 14 inches.

We were in third grade when we were introduced to the Greek and Roman gods - or was it fifth grade? Whenever it was, I was fascinated. By the time I reached high school, I was a dedicated pagan, muttering diis manibus sacrum as I poured libations of Cokes onto the Earth. The sound of a recorder would send me into poetic rhapsodies. I associated tunes like "Greensleeves" with the Great God Pan, ruler of the sylvan world that we are part of, a world that gives us roses, foxes, and black fly bites on the neck. And yes, viruses.

More recently, as we watched the first slow waves of COVID-19 move across the globe, many voices predicted or hoped that we humans would finally learn that we must respect the Earth if we are to live sustainably and in good health. I am not so sanguine, believing as I do that greed is here to stay. There are individuals who are motivated by profit at all costs, who will extract every possible gain from the Earth and its people. There are others whose concern for their fellow humans utterly outweighs their personal needs. Most of us, I think, fall somewhere in the middle, and it is up to us to balance the scales. We will have choices to make in the coming months and years, and we can push back against a return to business as usual. An increase in compassion means a decrease in negative actions.

Here in Lincolnville, I've welcomed the self-isolation (which isn't so different for me anyhow) for the time it gives me to focus on new paintings. I posted a photo in my March newsletter with the studio wall hung with mud color panels and canvases. Those painted grounds are now being ferilized so to speak, and though the subjects seem widely divergent, I am led in each of them by a specific impulse to explore the natural world. You could say that it's Pan with his reed pipes, leading me on.