When the pandemic hit I watched a very good year go away email by email, cancellation by cancellation. I've managed not to lose my house but it's still close, two full years later, three full Spring seasons of lost work. I dumped my warehouse and moved my "small production company" into friends barns and basements and wherever I could cadge free space. I thought it might be for nine months or a year. It might be another year or two to build back a clientele. I totally hear you on how easy it is to have one uncontrolled misstep that leads into an awful cycle. My little cottage is stuffed full of the last things from the warehouse, mainly project things and broken things or that bucket of clamps that each cost $60 and need a ten cent part. It's a feral mess that I wiggle through and here at the end of the summer concert season I am trying to shove some things deeper into storage while getting out others. It's incredibly depressing. As the house became an equipment locker, I quit having friends over and the social isolation of the pandemic increased. This summer has been busy and my mood has lifted with some social interaction but I still can't have people over -- there's nowhere for another person to sit. I totally hear you on how hard it is for us humans to be alone. Glad to hear there's a bit of hope with a new place and work and getting out of the truck. I really enjoy your writing and its resonance.
When the pandemic hit I watched a very good year go away email by email, cancellation by cancellation. I've managed not to lose my house but it's still close, two full years later, three full Spring seasons of lost work. I dumped my warehouse and moved my "small production company" into friends barns and basements and wherever I could cadge free space. I thought it might be for nine months or a year. It might be another year or two to build back a clientele. I totally hear you on how easy it is to have one uncontrolled misstep that leads into an awful cycle. My little cottage is stuffed full of the last things from the warehouse, mainly project things and broken things or that bucket of clamps that each cost $60 and need a ten cent part. It's a feral mess that I wiggle through and here at the end of the summer concert season I am trying to shove some things deeper into storage while getting out others. It's incredibly depressing. As the house became an equipment locker, I quit having friends over and the social isolation of the pandemic increased. This summer has been busy and my mood has lifted with some social interaction but I still can't have people over -- there's nowhere for another person to sit. I totally hear you on how hard it is for us humans to be alone. Glad to hear there's a bit of hope with a new place and work and getting out of the truck. I really enjoy your writing and its resonance.