I have always been impressed at how unreliable human perception of time is.
Just a couple of days ago Miami Beach was still swarmed by visitors and spring breakers (and I designate them in different categories here because they seem to be completely different species. Believe me, I live on the beach)... and then the Corona panic arrived.
Our streets were emptied from good, bad and ugly in no time: just like in the vast majority of main american cities most of our shops closed their doors, restaurants picked their tables up, bars shot their doors and left people thirsty outside. Even our local parks closed, as well as the beach... THE BEACH! None of us had ever experimented a hurricane season like this one before.
I don't really need to go into more details, because we have all been feeling this virus wave, and how severely it started to impact all of our lives.
Today it feels like we have been living like this for a month. What an ability to adapt we have!
With all these changes my mood has seamlessly morphed from sunshine to that which permeates the dark. I have kept very busy in daylight but as soon as the night falls, like a werewolf I feel the call of the wild (the "wild"!). There is something intriguing about this emptiness and darkness in a city like Miami Beach, where the party never stops. Our streets are never empty... they don't quite belong to us.
Every evening I have been taking solitary walks, and during these walks I have found a few canvases made out of shadow and artificial light to paint on. They have all appeared spontaneously around corners on fences, plants and other objects that are part of the MB lifestyle.
This is the first piece created since late last week, most likely on Thursday March 19th, I've lost count. Wait, what day is it today?
It has been very appealing to work at night when these shadows are so sharp and defined. They make reality feel so sharp, and when I revisit them the following morning all the edges seems so blurry and innocuous