Left Bank Live: Love Letter (by Michelle LoBianco)
·3 min read
Written by Michelle LoBianco
We are finding ourselves reluctant participants in the current state of precaution. All of our regular schedules and normal social practices have been suspended. We are alarmed and isolated – attempting to reposition in the current conditions of distance in one of the most socially dependent cities in the world. Out of this acute awareness, we are listening.
Listening to the news for information, listening to our parents, near and far, concerned for our safety, listening to the stories of social distancing.
I would like to express a unique point of shifting away from panic and toward the humanity of this event shared in our community.
Last week, if we could remember certain distinctive moments only shortly before the peak of change — I would share but one here. The time when thoughts were not fully concerned with the current state of affairs but only slowly seeping into daily life. Sitting in a desperate pizza shop in the Rockaways, wasted time and short fuses, tense to a beat, attempting to get to the ocean. There are always so many things** we can easily react to, and the news report is not usually one of them. We are being asked to change and all I wanted was to stop. I was looking for a patch of something far larger than myself, for the moment to cling to for the sake of beauty.
We are the beauty.
Walking weightlessly and silent from the pressure of a disaster to the Atlantic Ocean.
Watching the waves, violent in the midst of a national outbreak. The Atlantic was roaring. I watched it unfold and crash over and over again, feeling its energy and the wind pushing so forcefully my pen revolts against the page as I struggle to capture the momemnt. There is comfort in the uncontrolled natural movement of a wave. The ocean, in an ultimate display of glory is a constant at a time of inconsistent and threatening situations we find ourselves in.
It is not the same nor is it ever the same but somehow the ocean meets the sand on my feet and the sunlight hits my page.
This was a conversation I had with myself and then with those around me about acceptance, about confronting change and finding comfort in chaos.We are all naturally violent disasters waiting for a bit of fucking sunlight.
You are where you will be
You will be where you are
We are active
We are empathetic
We are a community with self presence
We are a living community
You are important and this is my gift, a working photo essay and my love letter to you all: