Quarantine Bloglette: Corona, Such a Pretty Word

Corona, you probably already know, means crown. Suck a lovely word for such a horrendous virus. As so many of us are sequestered and having to get creative to amuse ourselves, I wonder what sort of art will emerge from this time. I already posted a couple of watercolor pictures from one of the Foreign Service Officers here in Moscow. (See my posts "Quarantine Bloglette: Spring in Moscow" and "When Life Comes Knocking.") One of my friends has been encouraging me to make progress on my novel by requesting chapters. (My novel wasn't even divided into chapters, but it's becoming so, thanks to Olga.) Movie production is practically at a halt in the big studios. I wonder if there are an indies out there shooting the next Blair Witch Project.

I've never been a visual artist. The closest I've ever come is my interpretation of accidents - in the kitchen spilling saffron, a particularly jewel-toned bruise I get from stumbling on the stairs or my hair in its various states. Here's my Corona crown, otherwise known as Corona bedhead:

There's a braid in there that didn't survive the night. The longer my hair gets during this isolation, the better it tends to stay in a braid; this was an stunning exception. My husband, Douglas, thinks this looks pretty. I'll be sure to throw in a braid and take a long nap before we attend the next Marine Ball, that will save us some money on having my hair done.

Years ago, to amuse a friend, a took a series of bedhead pictures. I felt they were rather artistic. I don't think she ever responded. Here's one I call Bedhead with lipstick:

I think this can be a thing, don't you? Bedhead pictures during the Corona pandemic? Those who are still working can title theirs, "Bedhead at Work" or "Virtual Meeting: Audio Only."

There was a time, earlier in this blog, that people commented that they liked the pictures, that they wanted to see more pictures. At great risk of being asked to never post another picture (at least of myself) I'll give you a couple more from my bedhead gallery:

I call this one "Surf's Up in Silver Spring" circa 2017:

 And this one is "Back to Bed - forever":

It often amazes me that I ever married. Poor Douglas. I remember sleeping in my Jeep out on the Renaissance Festival grounds one year. I had the back seat folded flat, so I could stretch out. (I'm only 5'1/2" tall.) In the back, I had one of those full-length, cheap mirrors so I could see to get ready in the mornings. One early morning, I woke up, opened my eyes and was face-to-face with myself, face sandwiched between two pillows. I nearly wet my bed, er, my Jeep. Gads, what a shock. It was much worse than anything you see above, because, as  light sleeper on noisy grounds, the only way I could sleep was to drink copious amounts of wine. I met my husband at the Renaissance Festival. Again, I'm amazed I ever married.

As I said, my braids usually last the night, especially if it's freshly washed and damp. I've taken to wearing my hair in my night braid all the following day. As my standards drop, I'm tempted to wear the same braid for a week or so. I might start utterly ignoring it, think: white woman's dreadlocks.

In the meantime, this next picture shows you my Corona hair. It is freshly washed, not slept on. Circa Janis Joplin, this is just how it is these days:

 Maybe to make up for all these unflattering pictures, I'll post a nice one. First, I have to find one. That might take some time.