Art Heals: Together

As many parts of our country and countries abroad are “opening up,” (a fungible concept that raises an image in my mind of twisting the key on a can of sardines and trying to get them out without crushing them), I can’t help but think about all the people with whom I would like to be together IRL. 
I have a cousin in Italy, who by an accident of bad timing, was separated from her husband by 400 miles throughout the lockdown.  Italy, which had the longest lockdown in Europe, is now partially opening up, and separations are being eased, but as my Italian grandmother would have said, è complicato.   As the prime minister laid it out, Italians could visit their congiunti, which means relatives, but in Italian could mean others as well. Confusion reigned, exacerbated with the subsequent clarification that it meant affetti stabili, someone of “stable affection.” Who are these people? Spouses, yes, But lovers? Partners?  Best friends? Your favorite butcher?  What makes your affections stable?  How long should that take?  What about love at first sight?  What about who is taking care of the dog?  Since Italian privacy laws mean that the police cannot force anyone to reveal the identity of the object of their affections, Italians were forced to improvise, something that I think they do better than anyone.
So I am thinking about the Italian solution for myself.  Who are my affetti stabili?   (My partner in quarantine has been here the whole time, but since he spends the day in the other room, I vote to have him come out before 5 pm now.) My best friend and college roommate.  Definitely.  My new friend-- who, as I suddenly counted up the years I have known her, oh Lord, twenty-two years!—is really a wonderful old friend.  My old friends from my years abroad, most of them living elsewhere now, but still close to my heart. Local friends with whom I shared dinners and drinks and good talk.  My work colleague, who consistently put up with my quirks and made my life easier. My small family of relatives, all of whom live far away.  Dozens of artists and poets whose creativity nurtures and sustains me.  The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker.  I need them all.  I want them all back in my life, in real life. 
Pre-lockdown, I never thought about making such a list.  I took for granted the people who gave my life meaning.  Now I want to “open up” and crowd together with all of them. Maybe even get a dog again. 
This photograph by Katie Archibald-Woodward reveals the solution to the Italian dilemma, and mine.  Art Heals.