Embracing the Crazy With Kate Siber
It's 10:30 a.m. on a Friday and I have already fixed myself an omelet, talked with friends on Zoom, baked an apple pie, eaten much of that pie, and finally sat down to write—all while wearing a pink wig, because why not?
This is my life during the time of Covid-19—a mixture of the monotonous and the absurd. Normally in spring I would be road-tripping from my home in Durango, Colorado, all over the Southwest and beyond—hiking, skiing, backpacking, photographing, and writing. But because of Colorado's stay-at-home order, I am barely leaving my house, let alone the county.
At first, I felt a sense of residual busyness as the lumbering machinery of my life came to a halt. But soon, with less work, volunteering, socializing, and traveling, great expanses of time opened up. That bounty of hours has allowed for visits from some interesting old friends.
Anxiety, for one. I'm blessed to have a stable home and plenty of food, but I'm heartbroken for my community and the world—the people who are ill, out of work, or one paycheck away from ruin. It's hard to know the best way to help.
In the abundance of time, my creativity, which is so often channeled into travel, has been resurfacing in new ways. I have started to write essays just for myself. I took a watercolor class online. I'm making collages and donning more creative—one might say eccentric—outfits. (Cue the pink wig.)