by Annie Marhefka, Highlantown Writer-in-Residence March/April 2020
Well, this is certainly not what (or how) I was expecting to write when I found out that I had been awarded the spring Highlandtown writing residency at Yellow Arrow Publishing. I had envisioned myself cozied up in the newly created writing studio on the second floor of the Yellow Arrow House, looking out the window at the corner of Conkling & Bank Streets, continuing work on my manuscript along with the requirements of the residency. My very first task was to write a blog post about the upcoming Art Walk in April – an art walk that is now going to be virtual, rather than a steady stream of local art-lovers strolling from one venue to the next.
I had plans to walk around to the Highlandtown businesses and introduce myself, inquire about what types of exhibits they would be sharing at the Art Walk, ask what artists they planned to feature, and learn how they intended to capture April’s theme of “collage.” Instead, on the weekend before the first COVID-19 cases in Baltimore had been confirmed, I nervously entered shops, awkwardly standing at least six feet away and giving a shy wave as I introduced myself from afar. There was a sense of nervousness and unease, a feeling that the doors were about to be shut, and I felt like I was wasting the shop owners’ time as they anxiously awaited what was to come, the events that would be cancelled, the customers that would not visit, the income they were to lose.
In the days since my introductions, those businesses have changed drastically – some have closed indefinitely. Some have transformed their business models. Off the Rox is no longer hosting wine tastings on-site, but is still open. DiPasquale’s, which used to be my go-to destination for Italian subs, is now one of the only places I can buy milk for my baby when the big chain stores have all sold out. Peak Performance’s gym is closed, while owner Paul Breen is finding ways to offer virtual fitness options for members. Similarly, Rust-n-Shine’s owners are looking for creative ways to stay in business – perhaps posting photos of vintage items available for curbside pickup. The Creative Alliance is no longer hosting shoulder-to-shoulder crowds for performances, but instead a series of “Sidewalk Serenades” where you can pay to have local musicians perform outside your home. I find myself at home on my laptop, searching the local businesses’ social media pages to find ways to support them from afar. This is not how I pictured Highlandtown opening its arms to me during my writing residency.
But I can’t allow myself to wallow in my disappointment of this residency not being all I had dreamed it to be. For many, entire livelihoods have been disrupted, even halted in their entirety, while my stay-at-home-mom gig has only slightly transformed. I used to pride myself on being the stay-at-home mom who never stayed at home. Now – I epitomize the term, as do all other Baltimore mothers. But for me, this change is not devastating, as it is for many who have lost their income, had surgeries cancelled, are terrified for elderly relatives whom they can’t even visit, have postponed weddings, or cancelled funeral services.
So I need to suck it up, and do what I’m supposed to be doing - writing about next month’s art walk theme, collage. As I go about my daily routine, I try to imagine what collages might line the walls of Highlandtown Gallery, the shelves of Y:Art, or the display racks in Night Owl Gallery. That’s the tricky thing about art – it is really difficult to see if you can’t go into the galleries. Imagine that!
Then, it occurs to me early on Thursday morning that my daily routine is now entirely comprised of collages, in the form of virtual video chats spread out across my day. What used to be in-person interactions have been reduced to collections of tiny square images of individuals quarantined in their homes, displayed on my laptop screen.
In the morning, my local moms-only workout group that used to meet up in Patterson Park is now a virtual workout led from the instructor’s living room. Each woman is in some six foot by six foot space of her choosing in her own abode, and the majority of us have kiddos climbing on our backs as we try to hold a plank. I’m using my daughter’s playroom and trying to avoid stepping on legos as I do jumping jacks. But there on my laptop screen are ten other isolated mamas, trying to get in some type of exercise in whatever form it may come, all reaching arms over head in unison, in tiny little squares, forming a perfectly in-sync montage.
Later in the afternoon, I’ll video chat my daughter’s grandparents so they can get a tiny glimpse of the little girl they are terrified will forget who they are by the time this is all over. My one-year-old doesn’t understand video chat; the side by side faces confuse her, and she mostly tries to grab the phone out of my hand, her tantrum of tears when I won’t let her hold it probably feeling like confirmation to my mother-in-law that she has, in fact, forgotten them.
Later that evening I’ll have a conference call with my peers to hold a virtual meeting for the non-profit board we serve on, and again we will be tiny squares of faces on a screen, comprising a larger picture. And to end the day, my husband and I will put our daughter to bed, pour some wine, and have a virtual toast with friends who have set up a live streaming session for Baltimore musicians who are suddenly out of work. They will name virtual bartenders, also now without income, for us to tip via Venmo as we imagine the familiar faces passing us a Natty Boh across the bar. They’ll strum their guitars to the requests that are coming in via the chat feature, and when we all send our collage of clapping and heart emojis at the end, they’ll give us a little bow to the camera and sign off.
I’m also spending my days building puzzles – a hobby that has suddenly become trendy but has been an obsession of mine for quite some time (so much so that my husband has jokingly suggested a monthly cap on the number of puzzles I order, as the storage shelves in our basement have now overflowed into wobbly stacks of boxed puzzle towers). These puzzles bring me great fulfillment – I love organizing the pieces, taking my time selecting just the right one to get me one step closer to this large collage.
Today, I’ve chosen a puzzle from Zwiebach Creations at the Highlandtown Gallery; I only have the border assembled so far, but it will be an image of a charcuterie display inside DiPasquale’s Marketplace. It feels a bit surreal to be living in this time, and as I piece the puzzle together, I am keenly aware that when this crisis is all over, we will all be piecing little bits of our lives back together. Unlike my puzzle, with a clear image on the front of the box to guide me, the image of what our world, our Baltimore, and our Highlandtown will look like is uncertain. My little perspective is one story that will combine with thousands of others; together these stories will develop into one big mosaic of what this crisis was, how it impacted us, how it changed us. We don’t know the ending yet. But we’ll build it anyway, together, and I have a feeling in the end, we will make one beautiful collage.
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Annie Marhefka is a freelance writer, HR consultant, and mother residing in Baltimore, Maryland. She earned her BA in Creative Writing from Washington College on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, and an MBA with a concentration in HR Management. Her career includes 15 years as an HR executive & COO overseeing all HR functions, operations, and communications for a leader in the education technology industry. Annie serves on the Board of Directors for St. Francis Neighborhood Center in Reservoir Hill, and is the Vice President of the board for The Barbara J. Dreyer Cares Foundation. She lives in Canton with her husband John and their daughter Elena. Her love of writing was shared with her late mother, who inspired her to write about the complexities and intimate nature of the mother/daughter relationship.
Annie is the Highlandtown Writer-in-Residence for March and April. The residency program is sponsored by Yellow Arrow Publishing, the Highlandtown First Friday Art Walk, Highlandtown Arts, the Southeast CDC, and Highlandtown Main Street.
