The words on the back of this piece are from a poem I wrote on April 17, 2020,
about the way the Pandemic "warps" my perceptions of time, the clock numbers seeming to go backwards:
"Time creeping by so slowly.
Everthing piles up, even quilting.
I call it Pandemic Paralysis. Restless spirit.
Our world exposed, naked. What really matters?
What is really essential?"
ink and colored pencil drawing on watercolor paper, beaded edge
2.5 x 3.5 inches