Memoirous

Another in my series of the Corona Files Now I know what it feels like to be depressed. It’s like swimming in syrup, unable to start or finish a task—let alone a to-do list. It’s the grief pressing down, making my arms, legs, hands, feet heavy. I can’t concentrate; I push the button to make coffee twice and come back to see rivers of it flooding the counter. I go into the kitchen for something and stand there. Not that this hasn’t happened before. I just called it low energy or an off-day. And, maybe it lasted a day or two, but not 10 days going on till . . . . we don’t know when. Until the lockdown is lifted.

This past weekend was Nowruz, the New Year according to the lunar calendar that Iran follows. In my book, Cloud of Witnesses , Hassan explains the idea of Nowruz to Roland who likens it to spring cleaning, a time to clear away the old and prepare for the new. “According to the Muslim calendar this is the time for the new year, No Ruz , spring when all things are made new again. It makes sense, doesn’t it?” “Yeah, I guess.” I knew better than to say interesting . Hassan took a colorful scarf out of his backpack and spread it on the ground. “We have a tradition,” he began. On top of the scarf he placed a hard-boiled egg. “Where we eat specific foods. The egg represents new life just as these do—” He plucked a couple of burs and catbriers off of his soccer shirt and placed them on the scarf. “Seeds.” Next from his bag he brought out a baggie of goldfish crackers. “Usually we use real goldfish, but these will have to do, and this is called a noghl ,” he said holding up a smal...

So here I am for twenty minutes—the amount of time I can concentrate these days. I spend most of my time being distracted, touching my face, trying not to touch my face, or else washing my hands. A lot of time is wasted on mortality. Mine and the people I love. Charting the course of the disease in Italy. Every time I type corona virus I can’t believe I’m not writing an apocalyptic novel, speculating on end-of-the-world scenarios. I also meditate on how quickly life can change. And how puny some problems seem compared to now. We learn a lot when forged in the fire of uncertainty. Like the importance of friends and family. Stuff we used to take for granted. Stuff we always thought would be there, we see how quickly it disappears like toilet paper on a grocery shelf. This is a metaphor—but also a literal analogy. Which reminds me of Anne Frank. Every step of the way Otto Frank was thinking ahead. He had proactively moved his family from Germany to Amsterdam in 1933 w...

  This woman’s work BY JULIE DELPORTE Drawn & Quarterly, 2019 A graphic memoir I loved this small compressed book full of watercolors/washes. They are like small postcards mailed to the self. This book is perfect for the Millennial feminist in your life—what! You don’t know any—then get some. The protagonist (Julie?) is in the midst of a research project, exploring the work and life f Tove Jansson—and from there it spirals. Questions about relationships, the choice to have a child, or not. Who she is in relation to her father, lovers, film, literature, memories. She deals with abuse and the interior threat of self-denial. More than anything else it is a record, a journal of daily thoughts, doubts, questions that wash over her as she holds conversations with the life of Tove Jansson. Because I’m working currently on a non-fiction hybrid project involving a historical figure I am interested in how Delporte handled the material and wove in her own insights t...

Here is a small "speculative" story, a flash that is apropos of the time we're in Before the World Changed I remember when we used to take things for granted. When we threw away the heels of bread, left lights burning all night long, and traded in for a new car every four years. Before the terrorists hit. I remember when recycling was cool, when reusing a bag was simply being green, when it was trendy to bike to the coffee shop and request the china mug instead of the disposable paper cup. Before the crash. We thought about having kids. Before you lost your job and I lost mine. We started saving things like old toothbrushes to use for cleaning; we made our own laundry detergent from an on-line recipe. I used the Swifter cleaning clothes multiple times, front and back. Those slivers of soap—I microwaved them and pressed them together to make a new bar. Before when the going got tough, the tough got going. We kept the car parked and walked. On long road...

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