Written 27 October, 2020.
Melbourne had no new cases yesterday so today they’re out of lockdown. Even though I’m not in Melbourne, and only go to Melbourne at Christmas to GG’s darling relatives, I sobbed with relief. And pride. It’s the only place in the world where they did it, from 750 cases in early August to none! By lockdown, social distancing, mandated masks, contact tracing. In comparison, Belgium had 300 cases in early August and now has 18,000 today. A government-led huge success. I feel that we did it, although I just watched and worried. We’re all together in this. This virus is so infectious, it’s everyone’s worry. Daniel Andrews, Victoria’s state premier, in my book is a hero. He’s not only firmly led the state, he’s not only fronted up to often ridiculing press conferences every day for over 100 days since June 9, but he’s withstood scathing criticism from business leaders and even the Prime Minister and his party all because of his mad obsession to put people’s lives before money.
And my little life; I’ve felt very lethargic since I began the anti-colestrol meds….I worried that it was last Thursday’s night at the pub with my students. I feared I had the virus. But today, I feel like a new woman. It must’ve been the meds.
So I’m getting out my much-neglected novel,and working hard…. and then at low tide, at about 1 pm, I’m rowing to the point for T.
That’s the plan.
And about a week ago, Dy and GG and I followed much magpie squawking to S and R’s place, and saw a baby bird – it’s mother had been scaring the baby goanna away from the nest.
I tried to imagine what it was like for this tiny thing- peeping out.
And stretching its skinny little legs
And then a second fledgling popped out!
Dearest Sue,
It was joyous, delightful and very exciting for my fellow students and I to see you at the NIDA writer’s readings last week – even nicer was to see you at the pub with us all afterwards! We have so much admiration, respect and appreciation for your methods as a writer, as an artist, and as a soul in our midst. Whispers of Sue Woolfe are never far from conversation up on level 3 at NIDA.
Last week I came home late from a NIDA reading, I walked straight into my bedroom expecting my housemates to all be sound asleep. Now, my tiny little Newtown house has many advantages, however, the walls are paper thin – so when I shut my door I could hear sobbing coming from the room next to me, it was my house mate S, she was on the phone to a good friend of ours who is isolated in Melbourne… she only moved down there at the beginning of the year, with little to no family or friends to keep her company and practically went straight into dense lockdown.
S eventually got off the phone and charged straight into my bedroom, throwing herself on my bed in a blur of tears, distress and sniffles. I couldn’t do much but cuddle her for a long while ’til she was able to tell me about her phone call – I was expecting the worse, something out of this world, terrible to have occurred to our friend in Melbourne; it’s easy to catastrophize the worst, I find my mind does it on a daily basis.
But it wasn’t the worst, I don’t intend to diminish my friend’s suffering in Melbourne, but more make an observation about the ripple effects these instances in Melbourne, and all over the world, are having on family and friends who are in more fortunate circumstances. The pain that I saw S experiencing over our friend, stung me with a sincere guilt; why haven’t I been suffering for my brother J and his wife E, who are locked in New York, and have been for almost nine months … have I grown desensitised? Is my empathy wearing thin? Am I too busy or self-interested to be concerned? And I extend that question further… is it egomaniacal of me right now to be wasting energy and questioning why I’m not as distressed as S? – and the catastrophizing begins!
I speak to J and E every weekend on our family conference call in which we catch up on our lives and do the Good Weekend quiz. To tell you the truth, I don’t think it’s just me who has grown desensitised to the suffering, the death and the spike in cases around the world – it’s those living amongst it that are too. J and E find themselves in Brooklyn, where cases aren’t as bad as they once were, however all over America numbers are rising, and they’re expected to hit a new high over Thanksgiving. There might be a light at the end of the tunnel now for my friend in Melbourne, but the journey is far from over for J and E in New York.
Oh Sophie, You’ve had so much to take in- and you’ve been going through one of the most important years you’ll ever have- probably, for who knows what’s in store for you with your energy and brilliance. But a year and half at NIDA must be amazing, more amazing than undergraduate years. As well, you’ve written that extraordinary and wonderful play, with its profound images, and all the research and thinking behind it and no doubt held your fellow-writers together. You’ve had a lot to process, and on top of this the terrifying virus. So don’t beat yourself up.
Thank you for saying such things about me. I’m very lucky to have students who listen. Lots of artists have ideas that should be listened to , and aren’t.
Please keep dropping in and keeping us in touch with your family and your brother and your research. Don’t keep us in suspense. Sue
I wouldn’t dare think of keeping you in suspense for too long! Thank you for your kind words, Sue. x