Decompressed Time and the Five Stages of Grief
The following is a collection of thoughts that have been occurring during the last three years, but have been in the forefront of my mind as I was writing about our current exhibition ‘Decompressed Time Frames’
Decompressed Time Frames is open on Monday 25th April & Thursday 28th April 11:3o - 14:30
There will be a final Closing Night with performances on Thursday 28th April from 17:30 - 20:30. Performances at 18:30 and 19:30
Never again will we have the luxury, of being able to treat the various aspects of life on this planet as separate elements distinct from one another, and the existence of such elements as having no bearing on anything else around it.
As the global pandemic starts to take a back seat and the war in Europe takes over, now there’s a phrase I never thought I would see myself having to write, we can look back and either heed or ignore the warnings of the recent past.
It is November 2019 and the powers that be are watching events happening in another part of the world. With their usual bullish attitude that it could never happen here, the denial stage of the grieving process is already well underway. For the more well off in society this denial would continue for the next two and half years.
As the iniquitous nature of our society, and particularly the influence of our leadership in this, becomes not so much exposed as amplified by the measures placed upon it, an explosion of protest for nurses, Black Lives Matter and environmental concerns amongst other things, means that the anger stage is also in full effect.
Much later on, the behaviour of the ‘ruling class’ is exposed and the bargaining begins, “I was checking my eyesight”, “there were no parties”, “no rules were broken”, “I didn’t know they were parties”, “Don’t you know there is a war on”, “It is not good to change Prime Minister during times of war” etc . . .
Depression, a common factor in the lives of many throughout the world, even during more normal times, spikes and we see the predicted outcome of continually extending lockdowns with no end in sight. The light at the end of the tunnel, for many, turned out to be that of the oncoming train.
Is acceptance, in the context of moving on as a society rather than as individuals, truly achievable? For this to ever happen, would it not mean that we would have to undergo some drastic change as a species? Or does our acceptance mean only death, acceptance that there are certain things that we can never change. Where is that ‘New Normal’ that people excitedly spoke of during the height of lockdown?
Effect Comes From Affect
It seemed, for a fleeting moment, that realisation had dawned as to how cause and effect works. As the smog cleared in cities across the world, peaks of mountains became visible that had been shrouded from sight for more than half a century, wildlife started to make it’s presence known in town centres, and the ubiquitous traffic jam became a thing of the past, people’s dreams turned to a brave new world in which humans and nature coexist in perfect harmony. Mere weeks into reopening and the traffic jams have returned and the old normal is back in full swing
In terms of the lifespan of Planet Earth, our own existence is akin to that of the mayfly, short, and for many, brutal; spawning, breeding and dying in the space of a single day. For us there is no panoramic view of the end times, the best we can hope for is an educated guess. We cannot see as far as the end of our own lives, let alone imagine the life of this planet in an infinite universe. Here the grieving process becomes decompressed with all stages happening simultaneously ad infinitum. With the lockdowns now disappearing from sight behind us, it feels for many like awakening from a strange and vivid nightmare. We can look to the future with all of the illusions of compartmentalised factors prised wide open. What happens in one arena affects what happens in another. Everything is connected.
The current exhibition by Simon Bradley and Ursula Troche aka: ArtCouple looks at the interconnectedness of things. The butterfly flaps its wings on one continent and an earthquake happens on another.
And so the human mind starts to contemplate the idea of a fresh, environmentally friendly future involving nature, freedom and clean air, so too does the reality of surviving the pandemic start to become evident. The butterfly flaps it wings and the earthquake occurs. Plastic production, which we have been trying to reduce our dependency on for some years, suddenly goes into overdrive for the production of lateral flow devices. These in turn end up becoming a part of the unnatural environment, adornments for oceans, hedgerows and gutters along with disposable masks. All of sudden planetary survival takes a backseat as the issue becomes one of personal survival.
Economic crisis brought about by two years of lockdown inactivity means the speedy return of the old normal, the traffic jams and pollution. Any idea of equity between the rich and poor becomes less likely as the working poor, also known as key workers during the pandemic, are sent out to brave the virus, whilst others remove themselves from harms way. The butterfly flaps its wings and the earthquake occurs. The CEO’s survive whilst the death rate rises amongst nurses, taxi drivers, bus drivers, shop workers and many others without facility to protect themselves.
One of the things that we can be sure of is that the new normal is no different to the old normal, and GDP is not a good measure of how we can improve things. We must work on behalf of each other, look after ourselves but look after those around us too. A rising tide should raise all ships.
Bruce Davies | April 2022