Black outs make me hysterical. And paranoid.
I'm not afraid of darkness; I'm afraid that I can no longer see. I crave a source of light and therefore, in a literal sense, sight.
What always surprises me, since hindsight is golden, about my response to darkness is its extremity; I could swear I was totally alone in the world. It seems like it never matters how well I know a space and that reason would tell me that nothing was physically any different compared to when I could see, I would still find myself immobilised and fearing the worst; some evil would befall my loved ones and here I was; alone and helpless.
I mean, there's a very visceral reaction I have to blackouts - I feel a need to be armed, hackles raised and still. What I'm waiting on in these moments never comes. Underneath all the weariness is fear, not of the imaginary but of the very real fact that I feel like night blindness makes me helpless, and I hate it.
I thrive in light. I love the night provided I can turn the lights on. I love watching the recent rainy season lightening shows over the North coast, near Venezuela, I love trying to capture them on video and in photos. I love that time of day when the sun and moon share the same sky.
My attemtpts to relax in sudden darkness are met with resistance. The panic is something I literally have to swallow. I resist the urge to get in touch with someone, be close to someone , to convince myself that I am not alone or going to end up alone. The lights just went out. And it's ok.
Last week, thanks to a Boy, his battery pack and a lamp, I painted a bit during a blackout- mainly to calm myself. That night inspired this. Also my first time making and using lino printing.
Keep good and shine!