Seeing through the Noise

By Shelley Rice

The First Mask

The first time I remember putting on a face mask was in January 2020.

My family had planned to see a play in San Francisco. However, news had just got out about the coronavirus, so we were concerned about possibly being exposed to the mysterious new outbreak. After all, we were going to land in San Francisco (SFO), one of the busiest airports, and on a holiday weekend. It was far too late to cancel our trip, however, and the virus still seemed so far away to most of us at the time, so we continued with our plan.

We brought surgical masks with us. “Just in case,” we all said. I was debating in my head whether it mattered or not if the blue side of the mask was facing outward or inward as I settled down in my coach seat on the plane. At some point on the flight, a man coughed in the row ahead of us. “Oh my god,” I laughed nervously with my girlfriend, halfway joking, halfway paranoid, “Good thing we have our masks on.”

The mask made the air hot and humid; and to a person who had never worn a mask before, it was uncomfortable compared to what I was used to. But I knew it was important to keep it on, so I did. So we all kept our masks on the entire flight, through SFO, and the train ride after. It was hard not to feel self-conscious about being the only people wearing masks, but looking back now I’m grateful for our decision.

On the day of the play, the theatre was filled to the brim with Harry Potter fans clad in striped scarves waiting in line for their seats, concessions, and the bathroom. The lights were dim, the decor was all burgundy and gold: Gryffindor colors. Watching a play with my family, listening to the whimsical soundtrack while enjoying candy and drinks was an experience I took for granted at the time, but now I’m extremely grateful for. As my heart broke watching two boy wizards forced to avoid each other despite being best friends… I had no idea I was looking into the future of humanity.

The very near future.

An Empty Terminal

The Last Christmas (December 2019). Art/Shelley Rice.

I worked at a currency exchange at the airport. I adored this job. I got to meet people from all over the world, talk to travelers about their journeys, and help people who were stranded at the airport. Along with that, I got to challenge myself, a shy introvert, to make conversation with strangers and hit my sales goals. It was a wild two-and-a-half years, and I miss it dearly. As you can imagine, the pandemic is the reason why I no longer work there.

On New Year’s Eve, 2020, our company was attacked by a computer virus on an international scale, and we lost a lot of business because of that. March was supposed to be the beginning of our comeback, but a new virus, a different kind of virus, emerged to wipe us out.

Flights started getting cancelled one-by-one. First, it was direct flights to and from China. Europe soon followed, and the currency exchange was in trouble; the euro was our most popular currency! When we lost the UK, Canada, and Mexico, we really didn’t stand a chance. All of our major traders - gone. After a rush of Europeans flew home before the travel ban hit, the once bustling international airport was a shell of what it once was. The terminal was quiet, hollow. Metal gates barricaded store fronts. Even Starbucks was closed (when Starbucks is closed, you know something’s up!) TSA lines were ideally short. It all felt apocalyptic in a way, as dramatic as that sounds.

I sat in one of the booths, my own personal cave-office on the ground floor of the international terminal, twiddling my thumbs as I watched the clock, hoping it would go faster. It seemed like forever since I had seen another human being. I was literally getting paid to sit at that point, and wondered why I was even there. I sang a COVID-19 parody of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody to an audience of empty baggage carousels. “Is this Corona?” I sang into the darkness, “Or is this just allergies?” No one heard me, thankfully.

I spent my very last airport shift on Youtube watching cutscenes from the PS3 game Final Fantasy XIII. I regret nothing.

Well - except not visiting the doctor more when I still had health insurance. I guess it’s DIY healthcare for me. Good thing I’m still young.

Slowing Down

I must preface this with saying that I am extremely fortunate that I am in a position where I have money saved up and live with family, and we can all support each other. I did not have the financial stress that many people have faced during this pandemic. Those people do not have the luxury to slow down at this time and my heart goes out to them. I thank my family members who have made this time of reflection possible.

During the lockdown in spring and summer, I was furloughed and still getting paid; I could do this all without too much financial worry, and I still had health insurance as long as I paid out-of-pocket, sending a check to the company’s headquarters every two weeks via snail mail. At this time, we didn’t even know this pandemic would last more than a few months, so I didn’t even worry about the future all that much. I just wanted to focus on improving myself. I wanted to answer these questions: who was I? And what did I want to do with my life?

As an introvert, I was excited to have an excuse to stay home every day, focusing on my hobbies: writing, drawing, and video games. Tackling my huge backlog of media that I’d been meaning to consume for years but never got around to? Exercising alone where no one can see me? Limiting my social spaces to the internet and phone? I was made for this.

I returned to my love of video games: a part of my soul I had neglected the past couple of years. My first curbside pickup was at Best Buy, for a PS4 game I had pre-ordered the year before: Final Fantasy VII Remake. I rediscovered my joy for games, spending hours in front of the TV guilt-free, then heading to the internet to talk to other fans. It was like high school again. I felt like I was returning home from a long journey, and I thought a lot about how much life the 40-hour work week takes from us.

Without standing in a currency exchange booth and walking through an airport terminal 40 hours a week, I needed to find ways to stay active from home. Throughout the pandemic, I still practiced yoga even though I could no longer go to the gym. I set up my own yoga sanctuary in the guest room, which even already had a pink Himalayan salt lamp to set the mood. So whenever the need to move my body emerged, I rolled out my yoga mat, put on a meditation playlist on Spotify and proceeded to do a yoga routine I had memorized from my instructor at the gym. “I could be a certified yoga instructor someday,” I thought, imagining myself at 40 leading my own class as I went through my own practice. I even added new segments to the routine that I had learned from various other teachers, including one of my girlfriend’s kung fu sifus, who had his own fitness classes on Facebook Live. I miss those live sessions that my girlfriend and I would follow together, even when the internet connection kept cutting off the livestream.

When indoor workouts weren’t enough, I practiced mindful walking. I took my chihuahua-mix, Caslan, around the neighborhood at 6:30 am before it got too hot. As Caslan took note of every scent, I made the effort to notice each tree, bush, and flower in our neighborhood. I was reminded of how beautiful nature was, and how close it was to home. My girlfriend and I started taking our dogs out for more walks, and we even took them to Mount Charleston to escape the heat in town. I noticed more people were spending time outdoors at neighborhood parks or local hiking spots, and I was happy that more people got the opportunity to relax and experience nature and family time this year.

Nature really is healing. It grounds us in the present, reminding us that before humanity and society and all its expectations existed, nature was here first, and no matter how terrible our lives are going, nature will always be here to remind us of the beauty of life (as long as we take care of the planet!) For years I’ve been thinking how much I want to capture the beauty of nature in my art, and so I finally picked up the pile of sketchbooks I had abandoned long ago to start drawing and painting again: after a year-long hiatus.

Whenever I became overwhelmed after spending hours seated in deep frustration over the horrible things happening in our world, I focused on the little things in order to rest. Instead of brooding over anti-maskers, racists, and conspiracy theorists, I debated on what shade of green I should use in my next Slowtember painting, or how joyful the new Kim Petras song was, or how deliciously sinister Cersei Lannister was on today’s chapter of A Feast for Crows (“Game of Thrones” for those who didn’t read the books). These quiet, simple moments were some of my highlights this past year, and when the world eventually goes back to normal, I want to incorporate this type of downtime into my routines in the future.

Yes, the pumpkin voted too. Photo/Shelley Rice.

Art Reflects Life

When I did focus on the harsh realities of our current political atmosphere, I found ways to weave it into the narrative of my own fiction writing. That is not to say that I am so removed from reality that I see it as fiction, but rather that I use art and fiction as tools to reflect and comment on what is happening in the real world. It is simply my way of processing reality - my coping technique of choice - and 2020 gave me a lot of things to cope with.

This was the year I got a lot of writing done. One of the things I love to do is write fanfiction (fiction written by a fan of, and featuring characters from, a particular TV series, movie, etc.). I have been writing a novel-length Final Fantasy XII fanfiction for the past few years, which, admittedly, has been an uphill battle with my enormous self-doubt. However, this year alone I managed to write, edit and publish 12 chapters. Compared to many writers, that’s a crawling pace; For me, those 70,000 words were more than I had published in the last two years combined.

When I started planning my novel in 2017, I was already subconsciously writing it as a way to express my feelings of real-life government, but 2020 just brought all of my issues with my country to the forefront. In my fanfiction, Larsa Solidor is a young Emperor full of optimism, with hopes to change his country for the better. However, he faces opposition from the Senate, as well as the insanely-rich ruling class: the gentry. It is a story about change vs the status quo, and how old, broken systems need to be tossed out and replaced. I wanted to express how I felt about this all in a way that was most comfortable to me: through Final Fantasy XII fanfiction. As I saw news of people dying from COVID-19, I wrote about Ambassador Penelo saving someone’s life. While Congress went on recess instead of helping the American people, I wrote about Emperor Larsa pushing forward progressive legislation that would help the less fortunate.

As an optimist who also happens to be an artist, I believe it is my duty to create stories and worlds that give people hope: to show what a better world could look like. As I posted these chapters, my readers would tell me about their 2020 and pandemic woes, and how they too wished there were more public officials in the real world like the leaders in my book. My answer to that? There are, there can be, and there will be, as long as we take a stand and make our voices heard.

My girlfriend, her parents, her sister, and I all went to go vote together. It’s a memory I’ll always cherish.

Changes

I feel and look different than a year ago. My hair is longer, and I’ve gained weight. I’m dressing how I want. I’m focusing less on what other people expect me to be, and more on who I want to be. I’m starting to use my own voice and be my own boss. I’m starting to say “No,” and “I disagree.” I know what serves me, and what I need to let go of. I finally see what I’m worth, and I treat myself with respect.

My life is now a blank canvas. The future is uncertain, and I fear that I will be forced to take my life in a direction I won’t like, but I must remember that I have more control than I think, and I can always find the silver lining. I can get to a place where I get to do what I love every day. I can get to a place where I am happy and spread joy to others.

Obviously, I really got into politics this year (more than I already was), and I am thrilled to see more people getting involved. I learned who in my circle agrees with me, and who disagrees. Who is willing to have a calm discussion and who isn’t. Who is willing to learn and who isn’t. Who I need to mute on Facebook. In the same year, I attended a Harry Potter play and blocked J.K. Rowling on Twitter. I think it’s important to see both sides of an argument, but when one side starts using their voice to spread negativity, you just gotta get away from that.

The art I create now is more meaningful to me. Whereas before I created with the hope to gain popularity, I now focus more on the process, not the product. I create to express myself, and that is so much more rewarding than seeking approval from others.

I wanted this year to be an opportunity for self-improvement. I wanted to learn about myself and the world around me, try new things, and return to the things that I loved and abandoned. I wanted to remember who I am and figure out where I need to go. I believe I did just that.

Shelley Rice is a creative based in Las Vegas, Nevada. She focuses on writing political drama and fanfiction, as well as watercolor paintings and concept art. A nomadic intellectual, she has studied many subjects in and out of school, including: psychology, fine art, graphic design, storytelling, and more. She strives to travel the world and document her life with art, hoping to find answers to all of life's questions.

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Kathleen KuoMarch 15, 2021FComment