Oh did I have just the loveliest day Saturday! Although my inorgo lab (and procrastination) led me to getting under 4 hours of sleep, I woke puffy-faced and ready to get going. I headed into work for a short shift, grabbed some coffee, then headed home to be picked up by my friends and their family. We then drove downtown to the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit Chicago. Let me tell you, I am a geek for artists, specifically their life stories and how it influenced their art, so I was over the moon. Not to mention, pop-up galleries always have a certain flair to them since they’re meant for more than just art enthusiasts. I guess what I’m saying is that they make it a lot easier for the average person to get into the art, which may sound lazy, but art takes many forms and this is one– a dramatic and oftentimes intoxicating one.

Lonely and bored, bored and lonely– the ongoing theme of quarantine. Even if you have a thousand tasks to complete and a house full of family, the feeling still persists. Well, maybe not for everyone, but arguably many. Prior to quarantine, I was content with my daily positive social interactions from classmates, professors, and friends. None were drawn out or particularly close-knit situations, but it was these small doses of connection that kept me motivated and grounded. I took pleasure in exploring the city alone and sharing my discoveries with a classmate over a quick cup of tea before a shared class, or talking about something I read with an engaging professor during office hours. Now, alone more than ever, I know that “introvert” is not synonymous with “recluse.” With so much time and too many alone thoughts, I asked myself, what is love (baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no moreeeee!)? I could not answer this. So, why not figure out what the opposite of love is and work from there? Some say hate. But no, that is the absence of love. A hole. An emptiness. Even the most active of hatreds caves, and if it is fiery then it is not exclusively hate. Instead, it is grief, it is longing. It is full of strong emotion that rivals that of love; it is the love for which is craved. The love one can’t have, either from the start or to the finish. It is the yearning as your touch your lips, their face in your mind’s eye. The shaky breath when a path is a dead end.