David Hockney says about the lockdown that “We need art, and I do think it can relieve stress. What is stress? It’s worrying about something in the future. Art is now.”

Well, is it? I was thinking about now and how now feels as future is receding into a faraway land of restricted access and closed borders. Has time stopped?

We have entered a liminal zone, a personal waiting area where we are told to stay until we hear an announcement permitting us to move again forward into the future. This waiting area is small, confined, with little screens broadcasting live from other waiting areas in other homes, where friends worry, speakers give motivational speeches, trainers share exercise regimes, prophets resuscitate apocalyptic visions. A doubting Thomas would question if we are alive sharing the same space and time; we have to make believe. Now happens statistically in numbers that go up or down in charts that have time axis which starts at 0 point when our past stopped at a moment becoming more and more blurred. Past has a shortcut to happiness, but this past is also locked away from us. We can not leave the waiting room and go back to it finding consolation on familiarity and restart from there. This past is not on furlough, is not anymore accessible. We are stranded in a lasting now where we have to discover ourselves, we have to confirm our existence. And that is exactly what art is about. Asking questions that we usually avoid since we don’t have the time. Now we have the time as time is all we have. To find answers we have to look inside. To look through heavy and solid to find light and soft. It’s all there and it is our chance to touch it, breath it, listen to it, draw it, write about it, dream about it. It is our now and it is here to stay.

This is the link to the Guardian article: