The barking dog, the burr of the radio downstairs, the mother-in-law's compulsive cleaning. This is my world now. Someone switches off the radio, interrupting Bobby McFerrin as he croons, Don't worry, be happy.
Yesterday I took a photo of a window framing a view of rooftops in stark relief against a blue sky, everything bathed in strong sunshine. I was reminded of the people in Edward Hopper's paintings, staring out of windows, solitary and always spot-lit. They look pensive, absorbed by their thoughts or something perceived just beyond their windows, from which they are nevertheless separated by a pane of glass and, perhaps, anxiety and alienation. Recontextualised by our moment in time, they seem to convey the world in isolation, dreaming of emergence and reconnection.