COVID and Creation
How the pandemic shifted creativity
by Abdullah Alsabti, image design by Roman Distefano
A few months ago, the world was unsure of what a tomorrow would look like. The panic and fright left us bound in our homes alone or with others. When going out was no longer an option, some of us went inwards. When the world was uncertain, we listened to music to dance to and to sing to; each of us was certain of the words to our favorite songs. When the streets were empty, we filled our canvases with color and life stroke after stroke. When we couldn’t go out to tell stories to our friends, we watched a movie instead and remember what it was like to have the old normal again. It should be no surprise that when we were uncertain, we turned to art.
The purpose for creating felt different this time and watching others create looked different. The pandemic gave us time to shift our gaze to ourselves and throw ourselves deeper into our art. This causation led to creation and we created solutions. Photographers with no more models to shoot started to turn the camera to themselves and put themselves in the frame. Musicians started take total control of their own production, their own lyrics, their own sound. There was an interconnectedness amongst us to figure out how to put ourselves in the centre of our creation. If art is what we use to understand, then we began to understand ourselves a little more.
With every guide on how to survive the pandemic, I noticed a common suggestion in nearly every single one. “Learn how to play an instrument”, “Practice a painting technique”, “Read a book” or “Start a book”, and “Start sketching” were very prevalent when it came to helping others on how to feel okay again. But what is it with art that makes us feel okay? What makes creating a part of healing and coping?
I think the answer lies in what it means to make something. Every stroke, every sound, and every word we generate comes from an idea in our heads that no one else can imagine except for ourselves. It is up to us, as creatives, to bring that idea into existence through whatever medium we feel best fits our expression. So when we create something original such as a painting or a poem, we created something that has never existed before. A certain string of words, a certain combination of colors, or a certain order of sounds have not existed until the point in time in which you decided to create it. So the art itself is the manifestation of our thoughts. The thoughts, during this time, are troubled thoughts or anxious thoughts. When you observe your creation, you are observing your thoughts in the language of your choice. By having it presented in a form outside our head and into the world, we understand our thoughts better as they become clearer. We can hold them, hear them, read them. So then it is no coincidence that art, during this time, has become more personal and as a result, more uneasy. It is because it may come from an uneasy mind. In a way, we are telling ourselves what we’re feeling. When the creation is completed, that conversation is over. Finishing a painting replicates finishing a conversation about built-up emotions we’ve had. Looking at the painting is to have a clear image of a thought and being able to say, “That’s what I meant”. Piece by piece, our own stories of the time were being made.
However, the pandemic also showed us that we can’t get too caught up in our own stories and there comes a time where we need to participate in sharing the stories of others. With major events around the world such as the BLM protests and the Beirut explosion, we recognized the need to be active storytellers and have certain stories be heard. Even in our own isolation, we became connected. The art emerging from these times was packed with so much emotion and frustration, it humanized everyone’s struggle. Instagram story after story was one’s very own conversation and story that deserved to be heard and reposted again and again.
With the pandemic still going on, it’s easier now to look back and figure out the direction everyone was taking throughout it. Everyone’s stories seemed to be fleshed out. My own pandemic story was about awakening. There were numerous conversation with myself and countless stories created because of it and I wanted to end this by sharing one with you:
I’ve finally reached my destination at the foot of the hills. But it’s nothing like the pictures, “where’s all the thrill?”. Is it worth it to go all the way back and start this trip again? I ask myself as I begin the descend. I heard there was a nice lake to read by and go swimming. Maybe I’ll like the water and this will be a new beginning.
The car is all set and ready to drive, navigation and all right by my side. The road is easier, unlike before, when the highs and lows made it feel so slow.
At the lake, there’s fish swimming by and birds flying up in the sky. When I finish reading with my book, I raise my head to take a look. The hills far ahead seem pretty and sweet, almost like the pictures I found in my feeds. I grab my camera and point it to the sky, realising this is the place I should’ve known to first try. The view from the lens exactly like those seen in trends, all talked about by my good old friends.
I know now, here in this lake, that my time searching and lurking was not my fate. But I learnt to live from the highs and lows of the hills in the distance, their gleam so persistent. I make my way to the water of the lake as I say to myself, “Finally, I’m awake”.
