Creativity and Community in the Time of Coronavirus

We’re now well into the swing of what feels like a new world order.

Usually I’d wake around 8am, meditate, check my emails and social media, get ready and cycle to work. I’d pick up an oat milk latte from the cafe across the road from my East London office and catch up with some of the members when I got into work; we’d chat about our energetic Friday nights and lazy Sunday afternoons, before settling down at our desks for the day.

It was normal, maybe a little boring, but it was a Monday morning that was easy to transition into after an office-free weekend, more than any other day job I’ve had. I was grateful for these mornings, where I wasn’t brimming with dread and anxiety heading into a 9-5, and genuinely enjoyed seeing the people I shared a workspace with.

Last month, the founder of the company I worked for called and advised my team and I to look for new jobs. Like many other industries, the COVID-19 crisis and resulting lockdown has directly affected the company’s revenue stream. Panic set up camp at the base of my stomach. I hung up and had a long cry at my kitchen table. I’ve exhausted myself talking about the coronavirus with everyone in my life and have read up on all possible outcomes online, which is not conducive to pacifying stomach panic.

The WhatsApp groups are rife with hilarious coronavirus-related memes. During the early days of lockdown, myself and a dozen of my closest friends had a chaotic Paddy’s Day post-work-from-home video call entitled ‘Bat Germ Sneeze Germ Thermometer Germ Mask’ (the emojis in our recently updated WhatsApp group name) Team Meeting which featured margaritas, whiskey, espresso martinis and rosé. There are hilariously personalised Zoom quizzes and virtual birthday parties being organised by the most proactive among us. High spirits are being maintained and good humours remain intact, but underpinning the gas chats is a collective feeling of overwhelm and anxiety.

My friends are scattered across the globe: teachers, nurses, bartenders; scientists, social workers, event producers;  managers, DJs, waiters; theatre-makers, sales reps and architects. Our generation’s future was already fairly uncertain but we had made peace with the fact that most of us will never own a house or be able to afford to have kids before the age of forty, not to mention the looming presence of rapid climate change to contend with, but we have never experienced this level of immediate uncertainty before. What’s happening to me is being mirrored in what’s happening to everyone I know at home and abroad and we don’t quite know what to do next. 

Travel and moving plans have been halted. Some of us are in distant countries wondering if we should have come home. A lot of us are losing or have already been let go from our jobs. We fear the worst for our parents, older relatives, and everyone else with underlying health conditions, be they loved ones or strangers. We’re happy to postpone Friday night drinks, concerts, plays and holidays, but we’re worried about the things that matter most.

I finished up my actor training in Dublin and New York in 2018. I worked in an Irish production company the year after I graduated and made the decision to relocate to London last year. Soon after landing, I got a job as the community manager of a coworking space for people working in the creative and entertainment industries. The role allowed me the freedom to juggle auditioning and writing while also having the stability of a day job that tied into my career. I was steadily making connections in the film and theatre worlds and could envision myself building a long term career in the UK. 

The company I worked for is now in dire straits because members have had their workloads abruptly reduced: club nights, film shoots, music festivals, product launches, design projects, all cancelled or postponed within the space of a few days. Creatives who don’t have work coming in don’t need a workspace so most memberships have been frozen. I’m fearful of what’s to come and doubtful that those at the top of the chain are willing to make the drastic changes needed to protect those lower down, but I welcome a radical restructuring of our current precarious economic framework once the dust has settled.

Those of us who are healthy are staying home to protect those most at risk and to help slow the spread of the virus. With no work commitments or social events to distract us, self isolation is forcing us to embrace creativity and community in its purest form.  I’ve done more writing this week than I’d done since Christmas. A friend of mine in Galway has started painting again; another friend picked up a book for the first time all year. A friend living in Barcelona sent the Bat Germ group her self isolation timetable that includes daily yoga, zumba, chess, Catalan lessons and apartment deep cleaning. Strangers in Seville are playing bingo and doing fitness routines together from their balconies; neighbours in Ireland gathered together outside their homes on St. Patrick’s day to sing Irish songs. My housemates and I dropped our details through our neighbours’ letter boxes in case they need help with picking up groceries, walking the dog or would just like a chat over the phone.

The arts and coworking industries that provided me with a livelihood are both crashing right now, but every one of us needs creativity and community to see us through these uncertain months and we can embrace both from the comfort of our living rooms for free. I’m out of a job but I know I’ll be OK; I’m part of a generation who are resilient, optimistic and adaptable.

I’m no longer cycling into my office in the mornings. Instead, my housemates and I are working together at our kitchen table and maintaining our regular routines as best we can. We don’t need shared offices right now, but we do need to stay connected to one another and introduce creativity back into our daily lives to ensure we emerge from our homes more capable and compassionate than when we went in.

My friends are painting, drawing, singing, writing poetry, baking cakes, reading, doing live stream gigs and teaching their dogs hula-hoop tricks, and they’re sharing it all online so we can all feel a little less isolated. We may be locked away for a while, but this strange time is an opportunity to reconnect with the people around us and tap into the innate creators within us. Getting creative at home will keep the vulnerable safe and the healthy sane for as long as is necessary to overcome this.

It’s this connection to ourselves and to others that will enrich us because, as much as I love them, we can’t be sustained by memes alone.