Mary Aiu — Waiting
I have the need to create. During these months of Sheltering in Place I don’t have the desire to create edgy,moody, or images that convey the darkness of our uncertain times. Certainly, my mind dwells there frequently, but I want to continue to make images that speak of beauty and my connection to nature. My happy place.
I photographed this Friesian Stallion in April of 2020. As he ran around the enclosure he stopped and gazed out over the fence at the other horses in the next field, longing to be with them. The fence became the barrier to continue on with his life as he wanted, just as the Covid virus is currently stopping us from living our lives as they once were. The light was beautiful and the stillness in that moment for me was breathtaking. This one image from the day most reminded me of the healing powers of nature, and to continue to seek out the beauty that resides there.
Janet Beaty — COVID Dreams
These past months of “Shelter In Place” have been a surreal dance with time. Time seemed to be almost standing still and moving at lighting speed all at once. Often it was like being in a walking dream state. I would remember life as it was and then the reality of the new “normal” rushed over like a cloud. During this time, I have only been walking my local neighborhood in Seaside. As I walked, I would often find myself remembering hikes in other areas of our beautiful Monterey Bay. This photo, taken at Pt. Lobos in stage three of re-entry, expresses that dream-like feeling that has become so familiar these past few months.
Richard Cannon — Quiet Contemplation
Many hours alone in my chair.
Reaching deep into forgotten wells.
Remembering lost family, old lovers and friends.
Experiencing moments of critical self-evaluation.
Hoping, dreaming, regretting.
Knowing better than to wish for another chance,
yet wanting another chance so badly.
Seeing acceptance, understanding, forgiveness for
myself and others.
Bewildered…why now? . . .how long will this last?. . .
who and what will remain?
When the winds of life once again stir my days
and the noise returns,
hoping I will remember the calmness
found in those hours of quiet contemplation.
Ginger Chih — Purity Out of the Mud
This photo addresses both a novel way to connect and a vision for the future. In Buddhist symbolism, the lotus represents purity of body, speech and mind. It floats above muddy waters and in fact the flower never touches the murky waters. The actual lotus is natural. The photograph also has a glass lotus created by Dale Chihuly, the American glass artist. The background is a black-ink painting I made, symbolizing darkness. The only way we can survive from the darkness is to live in harmony — nature and manufactured, Easterners and Westerners, different religions. Unfortunately, this would be a novel way to connect.
It’s printed on metallic paper.
the lotus flowers blossom on long
stalks unsullied by the mud below
Matt Connors — Jack’s Peak
Our journey through the days, weeks, and months of the pandemic is unlike anything any of us have experienced. It seems we must walk a fraught path, a path wreathed in the mists of uncertainty. There are dangers and obstacles lurking along the way, the most frightening of which is unseen. Is that truly light up ahead of just a false hope? We have no way of knowing.
Dixie Dixon — Porch Time
This is a blended photograph, as it seems during this pandemic, all things blend together. We spend a lot of time here on this porch, my husband and me — reading, drinking tea, a glass of wine perhaps, with the late afternoon sun as an accompaniment. We play music there occasionally and the neighbors gather in chairs across the street; strangers stop as they are walking by, and they listen for a moment before continuing on.
Time runs together, one day into the next. It’s difficult to tell what day it is as they are all the same.
Eduardo Fujii — Sheltering in Place n.1
When first sheltering in place, I looked forward to those times of the day when I would take a little break and walk aimlessly close to home just admiring the little things. Those things that normally go unnoticed. The familiar world around me stood still and after a while, everything started looking eerie and unreal. I started to feel like I was living in a parallel universe. Sometimes I felt like I was part of a movie, living a life that was not my own.
With an almost self-portraiture approach, I created this image to represent my feelings during the quarantine. By means of conceptual collages and cinematic effects, I challenge long-held assumptions of what photography means to us. Rather than presenting stark reality, I prefer to fabricate a vision to let viewers explore the limits of their imagination.
Ruth Grimes — Delirium
When I was younger, I read “The Stand” by Stephen King and that set me off on a lifetime of reading post-apocalyptic novels. Some silly, some frightening. So, when I heard there was a virus out there that could lead to a pandemic, I felt prepared almost. Yet, as this drags on, I fear that calm was in fact, delirium.
Louis Hembree — Expression of Faith During COVID-19
The image shows members of a Salinas, CA church attending a Sunday service held in their parking lot during the COVID-19 pandemic. Cars were parked in every other parking space. The service was broadcast over very low power FM radio which could
be listened to over the car radios and also over the internet for those who could not attend. The image shows some of the cars close to the front, the cameras and microphones capturing the service and the people involved in conducting the service.
Bert Ihlenfeld — Keep Calm and Meditate
In view of the frightening and ever-rising Covid-19 cases, I placed a mask on my Buddha’s face and asked him how best to cope with this dreadful pandemic. His message was simple: “Stop trying to calm the storm. Calm yourself, the storm will pass.” And he added: “Keep calm and meditate.” I chose these words for the title of my photograph.
Roger Lundblad — Sanctuario
Not unlike most people, living in the pandemic environment presents us with serious challenges. On most days, I feel anxious, depressed, agitated, and isolated. At other times, I’m hopeful, upbeat, and optimistic.
My most recent project involves photographing the interiors of churches, basilicas, and cathedrals in Italy. This has been curtailed by the pandemic until further developments allow for safe travel.
In the interim, I believe this new environment gives even greater weight to the meaning behind my photographs. The contagion has deprived the church of one of its core functions to provide the community a sanctuary, a safe haven from life’s perils, and a place to seek comfort with our friends and neighbors. These spaces are now empty, devoid of people seeking solace. This will not last forever, but in the meantime the photographs remain as a stark but hopeful reminder.
Jeanne Marino — Finding Light
The man on the deserted street conveys leaving the shadows of emptiness, isolation and loneliness. He is done with it. He wants to move toward the light, toward connection with people and loved ones. He wants his life to get back to a more normal world. The atmosphere of the photograph suggests he has been alone, been in the dark, in the shadows of the pandemic.
He is making this choice, by himself, leaving a deserted empty (shelter-in) place. The lighting evokes a mood. This is where he was and now where he is headed, walking with a determined stride. And we all hope he makes it, because then we will too!
Carolyn Moore — I Cut My Own Hair
Challenged and weary of political strife in a time of global health crisis, I am pleased to be exiled in the home of two highly present individuals. Inspired to celebrate each day for what it is, my parents at the age of 93 and 89 are able to find joy in living simply within limitations. We others have much to learn.
Rick Murai — The Oracle
This image is an excerpt from my Bridge Painter series created in the mid 70’s. The 35mm film negative was scanned, reinterpreted, and printed digitally. The image of a masked, detached and weaponized figure and the ominous SF skyline conjured a disquieting scenario back then, and now it assumes a renewed meaning as an oracle or predictor of the dread, anxiety and life altering choices that we’re facing now.
Robert Nielsen — Hope – Summer 2020
Isolation during the Covid-19 pandemic of 2020 is a consequence of the need to shelter-in-place. Life as it was a few months ago is no longer the same and may never return to what it was. But hope remains, fortifying us socially, emotionally, spiritually.
Hope is what is reflected in this montage. It is based on an image from 2012, eight years ago, when the road was open available and free. That image and its freedom serve now as the basis for two haiku done quickly (but not thoughtlessly), like written forms of an unrestrained brush painting. These haiku express the desire (and attendant hope) to experience once again freedom of the road, this time to drive to see and hold my grandson who was born in quarantine back East during the pandemic.
Mark Overgaard — Corona Shadows in the Wild
When our better angels have prevailed, a major theme amid the widespread havoc wrought by the global COVID-19 pandemic has been caring: caring for and about the safety and health of ourselves, our families and our communities. With this image, I aim to inspire care on an additional plane: for the wildlife with whom we share this planet, the wild places they inhabit and especially the people who live there.
I hope that you find sustenance in the beauty of this naturescape, especially during this time when very few of us can experience such a scene in person. I urge you to consider supporting groups that work to protect the human and wild inhabitants in areas like this through the COVID-19 crisis. One such initiative is the Conservation Heroes COVID Relief Project (wilderness-safaris.com/conservation-heroes). My proceeds from the sale of this piece will be donated to this project.
Peter Paluzzi — On the Inside Looking Out
At the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic we were advised to shelter in place. Moreover, those of us over the age of 65 with underlying health conditions were strongly advised not even to venture out in public unless absolutely necessary.
This scene in this image is one with which many are familiar—looking longingly at the outside world but only through a window screen boundary. The screen exists as a stark reminder of our imposed confinement.
The inspiration for this reflection comes from the work of Czech photographer Josef Sudek. His collection of published photographs include many examples of viewing the world through the filtering boundary of his blurry window panes.
Kenneth Parker — Four Granite Boulders, Bald Rock
My visual awareness of the immediate environment since this rather welcome lockdown has been even slower and more considered. As always for me, beauty remains an argument that does not take no for an answer. I am forever fascinated at how it can arouse a fire dormant in the innermost recesses of my soul as I listen intently to an inner voice. This has only intensified these past few unusually quieter and kinder months . . . like a melody softly soaring through atmosphere.
As photographers we feel to be purveyors of this beauty, seeming seismographers of life’s perception who then have the audacity to call it reality. We wave our light wands about here and there, attempting to capture these gentle alternatives to the brutal insanity and insensitivity of a troubled chaotic world. With the right concentration and stillness, one can even create the very light one is looking for.
Jacqui Turner — Another Day
Waking, sleeping, reading, walking, writing, eating, another day, another day, another day. . .
During this time of shelter our days float between focus and unease. Photography has acted as a centering activity for me during this time. My work consists of abstracts, surrealism, still lifes, landscapes, architecture, and portraits. Each photo I make provides an opportunity to exhibit beauty, timelessness, and meaning, an opportunity to give the viewer a sense of life’s fleeting magic. With portraiture, I aim to capture the moments that exist between the subject’s awareness, when their true self begins to emerge.
Steve Zmak — Man Contemplates Stone
Man Contemplates Stone
Man and Stone face each other and consider each other’s lifespans, 100 years verses billions of years. Who has it better? Soon, Man gets impatient and leaves; he has much to get done in a short time. Stone loses interest as man won’t be on this planet much longer, and returns to contemplating Water, a longer-term relationship.
Soon, Woman comes along and contemplates Stone. She stays a little longer, and also eventually grows impatient. Stone contemplates if she would have been around longer than Man? Maybe a few more years, fleeting seconds or drops of water, really. Stone returns to contemplating Water.
Then Tardigrade arrives and contemplates Stone.