COVID CRONICALS

For ages there have been stones telling stories in churches. I find them fascinating. I try, and often fail, to identify the stories that are on top of the capitols.

I love to find the hidden jokes: a little woman clearly pooping behind a column and a little man relieving himself on the opposite side, on the columns to the entrance of a church in Todi, or the creepers growing out of mouths, or growing in through mouths in Capranica. In Monreale, outside of Palermo, I was very moved to see for the first time a depiction of friends bringing food to Maria after she has given birth. 

I am a lighting designer. In March 2020, my best year ever since we moved to England, my work disappeared overnight.

I never wanted to make things other than the ethereal things I create(d) for the theatre. But the lockdown gave me an opening to try something that I had never allowed myself to do: make things for my own survival and pleasure, tapping into my stories.

Working on the cronies stops my brain from feeling superfluous.

I am sharing them here with you. I hope you like them.

Trui