Charlotte Gebhard
2020
It is May now. The birds sing so loudly that their calls echo throughout my house. I begin my mornings sitting outside with my dogs, looking out into the yard at the flowers beginning to bloom and ferns sprouting. The cherry tree is blooming. When I think back to the beginning of quarantine, I remember the rain beating on the windows and waking up to snow on the ground. It was still dark at 7pm. Time has passed by so quickly, but it feels like I’ve been here forever.
In the beginning, I felt like I was adrift in a sea of uncertainty and loneliness. My art, like everything else, felt out of reach. I was weightless and pressured, under constant observation and never seen at all. I wondered what mark I had made in my few short years at Tabor, and how this experience would leave its own mark on me. Now, I remember: there are things to be happy about. Life can still be good. The cherry tree is blooming.
Underwater
