Covid Calls

On Thursday, March 19, California Governor Gavin Newsom issued a statewide stay-at-home order to slow the spread of COVID-19. The next morning, joined by a low fog that hugged the hills and mountains along the eerily empty freeways, I drove to my studio in Pasadena and grabbed an old, half-filled sketchbook, a calligraphic pen, a set of nibs, and a container of Japanese black sumi ink. With that small haul from the studio, I figured I could get by for the next few weeks until things calmed down. (How naive.) 

Before the order was announced, I was already secluded at home, obsessed with Twitter threads about the virus and flattening the curve. I spent most of my time calling friends and family and, as a result, getting over my irrational fear of, and discomfort with, FaceTime. Once we were officially asked to stay at home, I pondered where to focus my work while the world slowed down. I didn’t want the time to be trivial. I wanted to create something about the moment. 

On Sunday, March 22, I posted a simple note on Instagram asking if anyone was interested in catching up and sitting for a portrait. The first person to reach out was Joshua Urban: a new dad, a friend who is always down for a phone call or an adventure. That Sunday afternoon, I took a step into the unknown. One week turned into two, two into a month, and so on.

Social media propelled the project. As I posted portraits to Instagram, new requests came in. At some point, my friend Brian Takats suggested I include anecdotes from each call. This would give conversational context to each drawing. All of the calls were heavy to some degree, most lasted an hour, some lasted two to three. And all the while, I took mental notes about new realities and old inside jokes. 

 Even though the pandemic continued, the project came to a natural end on May 31. Americans prematurely loosened up social restrictions, and the brutal Memorial Day murder of George Floyd sparked a summer of protests, and everything shifted again.

Looking back to the spring, the time I spent sheltering at home wasn’t a time of innocence. Quite the contrary: it was a time when we were able to reflect, reconnect, and reconsider how we treat ourselves, each other, and the environment in which we live. 

I’m grateful for everyone who answered the phone. Thank you for your time, your patience, your friendship. Thank you for the Covid calls.