A Personal Journey Through Darkness: Spring and Summer 2020

This past Sunday, I saw my daughter in person, without a cell phone or a computer screen between us, for the first time since January. I am lucky: my daughter, her husband, and I are all healthy and here to make that statement. The last time we got together, in January, it was for phở and a Celtic rock show with local band, Tempest. We danced and laughed, drank cider, and had a lot of fun.

On Sunday, we talked sitting 6 feet apart on a log in the park with masks on. No hugging. No phở and the music venues are all closed. This is the time we live in.

There are, as I write, 103 million people of the Earth lost to this virus. In California, the state where I live, 16,000 people are dead. We are still in the middle and we don’t know how this will end.

As Sam said to Frodo in Osgiliath (1955):

But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. (Tolkien, p. 362)

Part of this journey has been, for me, as an artist, learning to make masks for medical personnel. As January became February, and March, and then April…then summer and then into the first falling leaves of autumn… I am still making masks. Hundreds made in a room in my house that is usually reserved for guests, now covered with requests for masks, alongside fabrics, threads, wires, and filtering materials, and boxes and bags staged for delivery or for mailing, first to desperate medical personnel, now to food delivery services, hospice workers, and, as autumn moves on, to workers in the fire zones, evacuating people whose lives are menaced by climate driven flames fueled by the dry lightning storms from the overheated Pacific.

A reminder that the global climate crisis has not abated, or even taken a vacation, while we battle this pandemic.

What does it mean to cover one’s face in 2020?

There are many places in the world where face coverings are normal, everyday wear whenever one enters a public space. We are familiar with the Islamic women who either veil or are fighting compulsory veiling. There are places where men veil, such as the Tauriq people of Mali, and the women do not. There are many cultural reasons why veiling and masking are adopted in cultures around the world. In Japan and other parts of Asia, whenever one is ill with a cold or flu and must leave the house, people don a face mask. It is simple community responsibility.

We also recall the annual Carnival di Venezia that is celebrated every year with beautifully crafted masks meant to disguise the wearer through the days of the festivities. Meant to fool, and prized by collectors, these masks are true works of art.

In times of Plague, called “The Black Death,” starting in the 16th century the “plague doctor” came to the bedsides of his patients with the bird-beaked mask we have all come to recognise. For the amusement of his co-workers and staff, Society board member and Academic Chair, Dr. Rodney Shackleford, has been known to don a “plague doctor” mask and gown at the hospital where he has been on the front lines fighting our modern plague. In the 16th century, the “bird beak” was filled with herbs which were believed to ward off the “unclean airs” which, according to the beliefs of the time, created the “miasma” that caused plague. Bernadette Banner, clothing historian, has created an entertaining video on the history of the protective masks and clothing worn during historical plagues that you can find here: https://youtu.be/ZniriC-jTHg .

The whole idea is, however, an alien one to many people in western cultures, where we communicate through expression and visual cues that are no longer available to us when our faces are covered. In popular culture, masking has, at times, taken on a darker meaning with the image of bandits and highwaymen, of criminals lurking in dark alleyways, their faces covered with a bandanna or balaclava. On the more exciting- and romantic – side, who can forget the masked superheroes of our youth, reading the latest comic or taking in filmic depictions of mythic ninja warriors. We remember reprobate Errol Flynn’s exploits aboard pirate ships and who can forget Peter O’Toole as TE Lawrence in the epic Lawrence of Arabia, galloping across the sands on a beautiful Arabian mare, veil and robes flying in the desert wind?

The Society for Ritual Arts Ad Hoc Mask Makers: “The 13 Maskateers”

Influenced by those images gleaned from the past and present, my philosophy has been to create something as effective and comfortable as possible, and to brighten someone’s day with something whimsical, pretty, or just fun. First and foremost, I am an artist, and I want everyone to have a little fun with this during all this darkness. While we protect ourselves and our neighbors, it’s Halloween or Carnival for everyone, everyday, until this plague is done with us. Mine is a creation inspired by some fabric printed with a map of Middle Earth. On other days, I have a mask printed with dragons and feel ready to fly the skies of Ann McCaffery’s Pern.

We are the artists and scholars of the Society for Ritual Arts. We came together in March to create PPE for medical personnel. Several of us have been working as individuals or in other groups from late January, as soon as the calls went out on social media from hospitals and nursing facilities without adequate PPE to do their jobs safely. We learned – fast – about what fabrics and patterns work best, how to use filters and what materials worked best, and were available to artists and home crafters. We deconstructed surgical masks and n95s to see how they were made. Broke hundreds of sewing machine needles, bruised fingers, wore out irons and ironing boards, learned and invented new ways of doing things, and kept the washer and dryer going daily, while we begged, borrowed, and abused our credit on Amazon and Spoonflower getting supplies while all the shops were closed. We delivered or mailed envelopes, boxes, and bags of masks weekly. It’s been a journey. And who knew quilt, fiber, and fabric shops would be an essential service?

Being scholars as well as artists, we experimented and asked doctors and lab workers that we knew to test our masks for durability and effectiveness, and our friends to tell us if they are comfortable to wear. In press as I write this editorial, a “Buyer’s Guide” is in the works to help everyone make decisions about their mask-buying or – making choices, gleaned from all that we have – collectively – learned.

 What did we learn?

We learned about microdroplets, infectious disease transmission, more fabric choices, and refined our designs to include nose wires for unfogging glasses, breathing room, and how to accommodate people with breathing issues, asthma, and reactions to face coverings by people with sensitive skin, past trauma, and claustrophobia.

In the process, we also learned a bit about the cultures where face coverings are normal wear, and adapted some patterns and ideas from far away places for friends and relatives. And, ears: we learned a lot about how to save the ears of America, one crocheted ear saver at a time.

To date we have supplied hundreds – if not thousands – of masks to Highland Hospital in Oakland; Alta Bates Hospital in Berkeley; a group of nurses pleading for help in Boston, staying in a hotel far from friends and family; the lab workers at LSU in Louisiana; The Peace Garden in Alta, CA for local distribution, BLM protesters; hospice nurses in Mendocino county and the Rancherias of Round and Long valleys; ALAS farmworkers; The Zuni Pueblos; schools; businesses; delivery drivers; PG&E workers; and some very uncomfortable workers at the El Cerrito Post Office; Raxacoul Coffee & Young’s Deli in Kensington, CA; the service bay at Toyota of Berkeley; most recently, meal delivery service, hospice and med-evac workers in Mendocino, and a rock band, all of whom we hope will have better, more comfortable, days now. One of our members, Chef Katie Kane, also began a soup delivery service in her small seaside village of Yachats, Oregon, that we continue to supply with masks to go with each container of soup. We must not forget the hundreds of our friends and family for whom we also sewed with love. And the friends of friends who contacted us with desperate requests for “something comfortable.” We never charge for any of these, although some friends gave us generous donations to keep going, it was never why we did – and keep on doing – this. Therefore: We offer special thanks to Marie and her staff at Raxacoul Coffee for allowing us to place a tip jar with a pile of masks in March and April, to help us with purchasing supplies.

When this is all a memory, we’ll host a party in Tilden Park and celebrate what we, and all the other mask makers, ear-saver makers, mad crocheters, the intrepid folk at the quilt and fabric shops getting us supplies, the guy who helped me fixed my sewing machine over zoom, and all of us delivering masks to people who need them, accomplished during this time.

A couple things you should know to keep safe

• While n95s are the mask that all others are measured against for effectiveness, some masks are better than others, so make sure your mask is filtered and that it fits well with no gaps.
• Wearing your mask correctly will make all the difference: it should cover both your mouth and nose, and have no gaps around the edges. If you find that your glasses are fogging up, adjust the nose wire. It will feel somewhat uncomfortable and tight at first, but it will do the job of keeping those microdroplets from escaping.
• The fabric that continues to hold up in lab tests is 100% cotton, in at least two layers, with filtering material either embedded in the mask or with a pocket where you can insert a filter. One layer of natural silk against your face has also tested well for efficacy in keeping you and others safe.
• There are several sites where you can find more information and advice and, even, tutorials where you can learn to make one of your own. One site that I personally like is this one, maintained by the owners of The Fabric Patch in Ephrata, Washington state. Cindi Rang, the owner, gives clear, precise instructions and is a former nurse who does her homework: http://www.fabricpatch.net/face-masks-for-covid-19-relief.htm
• There is evidence that a shield, alone,will not protect you. Please research the latest information before making your decisions.

When this is all over and behind us…
… there will be a BBQ, a quilt from our scraps to keep our memories of this difficult and dangerous time, and that rock band to dance to while we laugh, hug our loved ones, and share some cider. Until that day: Stay safe!

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