Chasing rainbows

At the beginning of lockdown it was heart-breaking closing the doors and turning the key on our cultural institutions. To see theatres, libraries, museums and music venues across the nation cease their operations, with no certainty about when or if they would ever reopen, was truly terrifying. Overnight our cultural spaces disappeared.

Yet, at a time of great stress and sadness, something beautiful emerged. Our streets became galleries, windows became picture frames, ordinary people became artists sharing their personal messages of hope from neighbour to neighbour like a Mexican wave. At a time of intense dislocation, people reached out and I became connected to the local. My local. Each window message like a white flag signalling that I was not alone in this barren desert.

I became a rainbow chaser. Walking the streets, scouring the windows. I sought to be comforted and entertained. I sought intimacy, peering into the lives of my neighbours, imagining who might live on the other side of the glass.

A child's drawing

An inspirational quote

A 'Clap for the NHS' poster

A witty joke

A Black Lives Matter placard

A rainbow

True colours shining through. Personal thoughts declared. Not on the internet to a faceless forum, but to the person just outside the front door. To our neighbours.

But now, as lockdown lifts and the footprint of people's lives begins to broaden once more, I feel my local slipping away. The messages are beginning to disappear. Streets are losing their magic. Solidarity is diminishing. Yet we rejoice in the reopening of museums and galleries as they reclaim their role as civic spaces and bastions of art. It’s bittersweet. Whilst it’s heartening to once again be able to access some of our cherished cultural spaces, many remain closed and I fear that the darkest days for the sector lie ahead. A sector that knows intimately the value of art and its intrinsic role within people's lives. A sector that has only just got to its feet after a decade of austerity. And I’m afraid for all the losses that will come in the wake of the pandemic. I’m afraid for what we all stand to lose.

So to the window artists, my fellow neighbours, the rainbow chasers - to those who have recently experienced how vital the practice and appreciation of art is to our very soul - I ask you to please share your messages. Don't take them down. Don't close your shutters. We still need you. For where there is art, there is hope.