Isolation Project
COVID-19 In The City Of Yarra, Melbourne

This story is about how COVID-19 changed the lives of a small group of people. I was interested in the creative ways people innovated when their lives were interrupted by lockdowns, loss of work and other impositions. And in their own words, how the changes affected them practically and emotionally.

The pandemic meant that I too had to innovate in order to be productive. This project, made with the generous support of The City of Yarra, was an important part of my creative and emotional wellbeing during 2020. I am deeply grateful to all the participants for sharing their experiences with me.

Adam

For most of the past 10 years I travelled constantly in Australia and around the world - designing and installing lighting systems for museum and gallery collections. While working in Sydney, February 2020 I recall how it struck me that COVID was going to be serious. I cancelled flights to a major lighting fair in Frankfurt in March - in turn the fair was cancelled as were all my events and jobs, I knew I was going nowhere for a while. 

The sudden impossibility of travel and the interactive, on-site nature of my work meant I had to find a new approach. Working in such site-specific and visual mediums to create fine tuned ambiance with light and levels is not possible remotely. In recent years I had identified some hardware items that could be refined with technical improvements and could hopefully be a viable new business direction and commercial venture for me. COVID lockdowns gave me time to develop ideas and make some prototypes. Over the years I have rolled out many large systems requiring vast amounts of lighting fixtures and components. Part of the flexibility in a good lighting system is storage and accessibility to the hardware, so I designed my own range of heavy duty lighting trolleys for storage, movement and access to all the required equipment. Large scale galleries and public buildings have limited storage capacity and long walks from them to gallery spaces. This created strong interest in my rolling storage solutions. 

Additionally, my experience with many brands and models of lighting fixtures (the key component of a lighting system) inspired me to create my own. With time available to me during lockdowns I worked with local fabricators on my MEGS custom fixture. It’s a flexible unit with precision optics and controls to suit a variety of exhibition spaces. Hardware I developed during COVID will facilitate existing and future projects. I now have clients in Europe, Hong Kong, Cairo and around Australia for these products. I’m still mainly working online (megslighting.com) but look forward to being on site again soon.

Amna

I moved to Melbourne from regional living last year, to do more stand up comedy and start my new career as an interpreter. Both of my goals were impacted by COVID-19. Melbourne International Comedy Festival didn’t go ahead, a massive set back to so many artists and people associated with the festival. Comedy clubs shut down pretty quickly as well. 

I took this opportunity to turn towards other forms of writing, and finished editing the novel I’d been working on for years. As for interpreting, with non-essential medical and legal appointments put on hold, there were few meetings requiring interpreters. That work has mostly shifted to telephone calls and video meetings. I am so grateful for Centrelink support. 

I’ve had a few different share houses and interesting experiences living with new people, learning more about myself and others. I was also processing feelings from a brief but intense romance that ended just as lockdown became our new reality. 

There I was, in lockdown, new to Melbourne not quite settled in a home or a career or creative work. Talk about intense! After a few months my goals and thoughts started adjusting to this ‘new normal’. I stopped waiting for it to be over and assumed this to be my reality today, tomorrow and for however long it needed to be. 

I started doing stand up comedy online with other comedians. It has been really interesting, now we are able to participate in stand-up comedy in places like LA! There is more opportunity to collaborate with people living elsewhere. It’s quite exciting. 

Now I work in the mental health sector part time and casually as an interpreter which I very much enjoy and find meaningful. I’m passionate about mental health and so glad to contribute, especially now there is such great need for good mental health resources. 

I made and renewed heart-centred connections with my housemates, friends and family without whom enduring this lockdown would have been painful. There were days when I struggled with feelings of hopelessness, days of acceptance of what-is, and moments of optimism and gratitude for life. It has been quite a journey. A crash course in adaptability, finding meaning in everyday life and connecting with other people. I have realised that the most important thing in my life is to connect with people, nature and my creative impulse.

Dominika

When the lockdown was in full swing, we couldn’t attend events and festivals. Our business was direct sales of hand made Pierogi (Polish dumplings - pierogipierogi.com) and it had dropped to zero. We decided to try an online shop and offered home delivery services. That kept us going.

It was very tiring experience being in the kitchen, or on the road, all day (between my partner Guy and myself) while trying to home-school our son. In the evenings we’d stay up logging the orders and planning the next delivery day… And repeat. 

No complaints though, this is what sustained us, really. When lockdown ended, though excited about the freedom returning, we were unsure how to sustain our living without the home deliveries. As events were still not up and running, we had no outlet and no option to make an income. 

During the lockdown our wholesale sales had also suffered, as the shops weren’t doing well unless they offered home deliveries themselves. It was (and still is) a very stressful time, but we haven’t given up. We’re now focusing primarily on growing our wholesale business. This seems the most logical, sensible and predictable, while we wait patiently for events and festivals to start coming back to life. 

When I look back at all this experience I get a little sad and scared. But as they say in business, the only thing you can be sure of is that you can’t be sure of anything and you have to be flexible. We proved to ourselves that we can adapt and act quickly. 

Our business had changed its path drastically. Even though right this moment it isn’t easy for us, long term I believe it might be for the best. We’d always wanted to explore the wholesale side of business, but never had the time to do it. COVID has forced us to stop, to breathe, to think… 

I hope for a little more stability to return soon, as I suffer from the not knowing where we are going. But at the same time I am positive we have survived the hardest part, and it will only get better from now on.

Isabella

There were many learnings had in lockdown. I learnt about myself, others, the community, love and humanity. 

We moved to Carlton. My housemate lost her job. My contract finished early. I moved in with my partner for the first time and I practiced compassion a lot. 

I was compassionate to myself when I felt anxious, stressed, tired and overworked. I ran a bath and told myself it’s okay to do absolutely nothing tonight. I also practiced compassion towards others and people in my community. I tried to avoid judgment, and I listening with my heart. This year I’m feeling a lot better at living in compassion. 

I did lose perspective at times. The type of perspective you get when walking out in nature or looking up at a big starry sky. You can’t see the stars well in the city. It’s crazy how challenging it is to maintain perspective when your world exists between the four brick walls of your house. I craved the ocean as well. 

I am a natural introvert and a nester, so I really enjoyed some aspects of lockdown. I was able to tackle extra subjects at university and not feel the intense guilt of bailing on mates at the pub during exam period. I had more time to take on interesting work, and to sink my teeth into ongoing projects. I am now nearly finished my law degree and am releasing a law reform on bridging visas for refugees and people seeking asylum in Australia this year. A lot of this work was completed in 2020.

Besides daily compassion, the biggest learning I will take from lockdown is how to be slow in a big city. I don’t panic if my weekends are not stacked with activities, and I’m not afraid of boredom. I now know that boredom is where you have the opportunity to define yourself and how you want to live your life.

Jas

What a time to be alive. Usually that’s something people say when they get great news, though this time around it was because we were living through some remarkable circumstances that were kind of at odds with what it is to be human; to be communal.

My business went down about 99%. So I used this unique opportunity to start a 7” record project titled Club Seven at iheardawhisper.bandcamp.com (thank you Creative Victoria!). 

I also went back to Uni, studying the free Sustainable Living online course that was offered by The University of Tasmania (thank you UTAS!). My favourite project was the I Do What I Can Carbon Challenge, which I created to dramatically reduce one’s carbon footprint in a five easy steps. It should only take a couple of hours, and you can sign up at: gonefishin2030.org

Like the flowers in this image, with the support of community, friends and family I was able to spring into a new life - hope you did too!

Jenneke

Finding myself in a dark winter, it feels a bit shameful to admit, I felt better. With a chronic illness largely affected by sensory input, I was feeling better than I had in years. Realising I was an exception—in the middle of a global pandemic and a huge struggle for most people, I had a secret. There was grey emptiness—less of everything that caused the exhaustion and depression due to pain of everyday living. No bright everything—traffic, lights, colours. No noise, no social expectations, no need for excuses. 

Living a rather hectic social life as a single person with family, friends and work, I now lived simply and found a new focus and enjoyment in my immediate community. I cultivated health and life with a local friend. I really enjoyed the streetscape—its geometry, its quintessential details. Without pain and overloaded neurotransmitters it was easier to be brighter and find spontaneous joy, like doing a beer drive-by for the four students with their laptops on the footpath catching the last rays of warmth outside their chilly share-house. Feeling physically stronger I renewed old skills of painting and rendering, and rediscovered my confidence on ladders. 

My creative past in the arts found local relevance. I put an entry in the local art event rather than organising it. I had switched sides. Although I lost my ‘real job’ I found satisfaction with these projects and achievements - and I felt stronger - my house looked better, I got to know my neighbours, I participated in artistic endeavours. 

In a time when my world became smaller and darker I found myself again. When asked near the end of lockdown
if my cottage could be used as backdrop promo for an audio play by local people, I could not have been happier. Called The Night Terrace—a terrace home flying through space and time—it was symbolic for my own journey
out of the dark.

Jess & Joe

Our dream of a little food truck began on a trip to Tasmania. We’d long wanted to be our own bosses, but how? An underwhelming portion of soggy fish and stale chips helped us realise the importance of a proper ‘chippy’—somewhere to provide real hand cut chips fried to crispy perfection. Now that was something Melbourne needed. We spent the rest of that trip brainstorming ideas and names. Starting was the hardest part. Working with some amazing chefs in the UK had given me an appreciation for good food. Joe was an electrician and sound engineer on the festival circuit. We spent lots of time learning from food trucks owners. Standard trucks lack character, so we decided on a caravan—something quirky and retro. The minute we bought the 6m Franklin Arrow our dream started to become a reality. Northern Soul was on the way. Two years later, on the 6th of March 2020, we arrived at our first festival. It was a steep learning curve—two tonnes of potatoes for 15,000 festival attendees and minimal experience. We did it and it was one of the biggest achievements of our lives! After that festival, all the events started to be cancelled. COVID was emerging as a huge problem. We were on a high after the success of our first gig and determined not to give up. We’d worked so hard for two years completely rebuilding the trailer. The caravan was a full-time job for both of us, we had to make it work! 

We secured a roadside spot in Edinburgh Gardens and people came from all around. Some drove for an hour to reach us, before the restrictions were put in place. Two months went by, and the pandemic became severe. Eventually the council notified us the park was too busy—we could no longer be there. The business was our only income, and we weren’t eligible for any grants. We spent months scouring maps, calling every venue with a car park, advertising, using social media and hounding councils, until we found our next location. The Elsternwick Hotel in Elwood allowed us to set up in their car park. We didn’t know what to expect but it was a game changer. We had queues of 40+ people on our first weekend. Gorgeous friends helped us, one acting as the COVID safe monitor at all times. It was a wonderful time amidst all the uncertainty. I think the customers enjoyed coming for their weekly takeaway and having a chat—it became an event and definitely the highlight of our week. 2020 was wild and wonderful—together we learned a lot. How to adapt in the face of hard times was the biggest and most valuable lesson, in a year we will never forget.

Kathy

I’d only recently had a few years of being adrift—living, studying and travelling overseas and then house-hopping in Melbourne. It almost felt like I’d put my life back together for this strange year. I’d scratched the end of my travel itch, regained a house in the Wombat forest … and got a puppy. Then COVID hit. 

Isolation is part of living in a forest on the edge of a small town, so lockdown was okay. I walked my little furry friend everyday and observed the gradual changes on the forest floor. The endless delivery of fungi, moss, lichen and wildflowers was inspiring. With an opportunity to pitch for a nearby public artwork, I used it to take a deep dive into the world of fungi. 

Looking back, I had a few things on the go, even though it felt like 2020 had been cancelled! I did have that week you hear about in the arts where, in message after message, the year’s activities and artistic projects cancelled one after the other. 

The RMIT classes that I teach were thankfully regular. We went online, students stayed home in the NT,
Malaysia, China and across Victoria. It was a good to have a schedule, as I could easily have forgotten what day
of the week it was. 

I was forced to get a sculpture shed up and running to complete a commission—an Uoo Uoo. This giant beany-looking sculpture was one of 100 that were given to artists to paint, towards a sculpture trail and fundraiser for the Royal Children Hospital. Thanks to this project I now have a welder set up and a neater outdoor studio.

After that the paint brushes didn’t get put away. Because event-based work had been dismantled, paintings could be developed in my own time as an investment into the future. I embraced art practice as something more in my control.

The phases of the moon that I’ve been painting are from NASA images taken during the month of April 2020, and a mark of COVID times. It was a meditative practice to paint the pitted circles that cover the moon’s surface. And a nice reminder that this strange, seemingly overwhelming COVID era is but a dimple by that time scale.

Lucy

I recall a conversation with a friend in early 2020. I felt anxious and uncertain about what the year would bring, and a sense of loss for all the cancelled concerts, tours and collaborations. ‘What silver linings could this year bring?’ she asked. Reflecting now, I am grateful for the slower pace and how it encouraged me to explore new ways of thinking and being. 

This includes the way I relate to my instrument. Having no concerts to prepare for, I was forced to become still amongst the chaos. Playing the cello became meditation. I found myself becoming more present, and aware of all sensations arising. I approached practice with more curiosity, asking questions such as ‘How is my breath when I play? How does my sound change when I place my awareness in my feet? Or my fingers?’ This way of being with my cello during all the chaos helped me feel more connected and grounded. 

I wanted to continue learning and welcomed online opportunities—completed yin yoga teacher training, watched masterclasses and joined a folk music camp. I had lessons with a cellist in France—someone I admire for her similar interests in music, yoga and meditation. These weekly interactions were so important for me, inspirational and creative in a time that also felt so uncertain and uncomfortable. 

Staying connected through learning seemed important for my own cello students too. With all lessons online, my teaching studio expanded to different states—something I’d never considered before. It reaffirmed my belief that people are drawn to learning an instrument for many reasons, the main one being that it connects our humanity. One student signed up for a lesson every second day during her hotel quarantine, and through music we navigated the ups and downs of isolation.

The opportunity to slow down, reconnect and reflect has guided me to a project that combines my music and yoga interests. The need for people to have space to process and embody their experience has never felt more necessary.

Ria

I quit my job in August. Isolation and stress had given me tremors in my body. I couldn’t live that life anymore.
My doctor diagnosed anxiety, but wait-lists for affordable mental health care could be measured in half year intervals. My loneliness became desperate and a crushing terror closed in, despite the online yoga, dance, and meditation. Most days I sat with the Great Tall Ones. At first I was waiting for revelation but, after a while, they became my Beloved Friends.

‘Hey you, come sit’, he called from across the garden, as I strolled by for perhaps the hundredth time, never noticing him before. Grandfather Joe, the giant Mahogany Eucalyptus, is dignified and gorgeous. He’s maybe 80 metres tall and 300 years old. He became my most beloved friend. My loneliness lifted. He has a concave spot ideal for tucking oneself into. I am this tree, too.

For months I journaled, talked, sang, listened and laughed in my contentment, and cried too. Once I fell asleep against his enormous trunk. Nobody bothered me, though a few were delighted and curious about what I was doing. Tree listening, of course. The lessons were subtle, mostly. If I greeted him tenderly, singing, or with a feather or flower, or tobacco he became more alive to me. One day he offered me sap for my sore throat - drink it with water. Another day a shrill bird call from one of his nearest branches awoke me, saying “I am this tree too.”

The end to a briefly fabulous love affair stirred in me a deep and dormant grief. It cracked open unexpectedly while I was curled up in my Tree nook. Grandfather Joe gave me his empathy. A translucent milky spirit emerged from the tree, wrapped me in strands of white light and comforted me. This was my first direct experience of how much Nature loves us. My pain, her pain.

I cherish the seeds my Grandfather Tree gifted me. I’ve stopped begging Nature for revelation. I just love being with them, and they love being with me. I am this tree, too.

Tom & Jules

Without even discussing it, we shared a feeling that it was important to embrace the opportunities that this period represented, rather than focus on uncertainty, anger and fear. 

As the weeks of lockdown stretched on, people were home and they were bored and perhaps uncomfortable facing feelings and worries never felt before. This meant more hard rubbish. We’d be driving somewhere and see mounds of it, as people cleared out their garages and bought new furniture and appliances. For us, turning cast-aside books, picture frames and pizza boxes into something new was immediately satisfying.

Although we weren’t having our regular social experiences, we were still able to connect with humanity, and it hadn’t changed all that much. So much of our artwork focuses on the interactions between people, the feelings and intentions behind the actions, and the subversive darkness that both of us seem to find in seemingly innocuous moments. 

Our mood remained positive throughout; it’s lucky we are very good, very old friends. We share an extreme cynicism and mutual disdain for many things. In this way I feel like our attitudes haven’t been changed by Covid’s impact. 

In terms of future goals, we just want to keep making art, try to make it even better, and keep being inspired by the wonderful, messed up things that people do. 

Will

I have been teaching Taekwondo for 10 years and it was my very first time conducting classes online. It was actually better than I expected at the start as members don’t get distracted by surrounding and had their attention on their screen.  Also for younger members, it was like they are communicating with a person on TV.  However, as the lockdown continued for more than 8 months, young members started to get distracted as they are too comfortable at their homes. It was unfortunate that I could’t deliver more content to them and there were some limits to what we could do. Now, we finally got out of the lockdown and I’m grateful to have members at the gym and teach them what they love in fun ways.

One of my young students, Jeremy who is 10 said “It was interesting and it felt like we did a whole lot of new stuff we wouldn’t have done at the gym, and also a lot more kids were joining Taekwondo probably because it would be easier for the shy kids”