Sapphic Pondering

I.                     Introduction When talking about depression, Ann Svetkovich described it as “a state of being “stuck,” of not being able to figure out what to do or why to do it” (Svetkovich, 20). She also talked about the concept of an impasse: a state, mental or physical, that opens into anxiety, uncertainty, and generally a form of confusion and immobility. In the context of the current pandemics, the world is, in fact, in an impasse. With people staying at home, productions and life are put on a standstill without a guarantee when it will end. In contrast to an impasse is the idea of movement and creativity, defined by Svetkovich as a form of movement that   maneuvers the mind around an impasse, even if that movement seem backward or like a form of retreat. Creativity encompasses different ways to move and be functional in a world that does not allow the person to do so. For me, the impasse started when I got an email from Vanderbilt University on March 12 th , saying

The Invisible Song Yolanna lies awake. It is the same sound. Gentle. Steady. And calm. The sound of an invisible piano seeps through the wall of her bedroom, spilling into the silent dimness. It starts when she turns her light off, and has not gone quiet as the night droned on. Yolanna turns, now staring at the wall. Her finger thrums on the bedframe: tock, tock, tock – to the beat of the no-name song. Her eyes are heavy. And there’s a kink in her neck. She should sleep. But the invisible sound is there.  And Yolanna keeps her eyes open. ~o~ Boxes sprawl on top of the wooden floor, some opened, some tightly sealed. The house is barren, white walls and white blinds. The windows are closed, covered in a thin layer of dust. It smells like cardboard and abandonment.   “Achoo!” – She sneezes. And grimaces. – “Ugh.” “Bless you” – She says, just so that the studio apartment feels less empty. The front door is closed, and the sky is grey