For Everyman

Empty.

That’s how I felt when I awoke. As a friend said, we are paused for thirty days.  For some people a deep kind of sadness has settled in. They, like the rest of us, know that the virus will forever change us. All of us. I was reading a thread on Twitter. It was so bleak that I could only read about five tweets.

Enough.

If you haven’t seen the videos coming out of Italy, you should They are about as uplifting as anything that I’ve ever seen. All of the folks who are confined to their houses started playing and singing music.

The sound floated through the city streets.

Then, they got organized. They played certain tunes at certain times. A true wonder. Before they did that, they started clapping. Clapping for all of the medical personnel.  For the doctors. For the nurses. For the technicians. For the orderlies. For the EMTs in the street. For the guys who cleaned everything so carefully.

It hit me. Like a ton of bricks.

I have been given something to do. Something I can focus on. A way to use my best talent. Make pictures. Doh! Make bright, colorful, happy pictures. I can’t really do much to give comfort to those who I don’t know. But, I do have a pretty vibrant community right here, on Storyteller. I can brighten your day. For a minute. For five minutes. Maybe even for longer.

Pictures. I made this picture a few weeks ago. I did my layering thing shortly there after. I set it aside. I don’t know why. Yesterday, I made a picture of a couple of train cars in the fog. It is gray and sort of bleak. It’s a fairly good picture. I was going to publish it today. I thought, nah. You’ve got enough gray things floating around right now.

You get the colorful picture today.