NICKY EBBAGE
PHOTOGRAPHY & FIBRE ARTS
THROUGH YOUR WINDOW, MARCH-MAY 2020
A LOCKDOWN DOORSTEP PHOTOGRAPHY PROJECT
Through Your Window is a collection of self-isolation stories, compiled during the covid-19 pandemic. The images here were taken (as the title suggests) through windows, in doorways and across streets - always far enough away to ensure we could remain socially distanced. They came into being at a time when many of us needed connection and community, and despite the physical distance inherent in the creation of these images, I think many of them do manage to convey that sense of community
Everyone photographed also provided a written submission to the project, an answer to the question: "How has your life changed since the outbreak of covid-19?" These written submissions range from the mundane to the profound, and I have included a selection of my favourites below. You can find the full collection on Patreon.
SIÂN, JAMIE AND MARMITE THE CAT
Jamie and I have been in isolation for 3 weeks now. We spent a weekend in Spain right at the point when they went into emergency lockdown so we thought it best to keep away from people once we got back. The last few weeks have been quite overwhelming and I’ve felt a bit paralysed by it all. I think I went into a state of withdrawal initially. The world suddenly felt too loud.
I’m starting to emerge again now, and am feeling very grateful for the small things. I’m enjoying spending time in the garden, with my husband and cat, speaking to friends and family a lot more than I did before, appreciating my lovely kind neighbours, and finding the time to do simple things that my crazy-busy-too-fast life didn’t allow for before. If there is a positive to be found from a time like this I think it would be the opportunity to reflect, and to appreciate what really matters in life.
SOPHIE AND MEG
I met Meg on Hinge three weeks before lockdown started. We went for what we thought would be a casual drink at The Old Bookshop, but had both our worlds turned upside down with love at first sight. We had three whirlwind weeks of beautiful dates, spending our days in the woods, drinks at the harbourside and swimming in the sea in Croyde. We were so wrapped up in each other that lockdown came as a total surprise. We decided we couldn't bare to spend our time apart, so Meg moved in temporarily to my house share so we could be together. Just as well, as shortly after I fell out of a tree, breaking two fingers, meaning I could no longer teach yoga... Meg has been a trooper in taking on all the cooking and cleaning that I can no longer manage, and I really don't know what I would have done without her.
Last week, Meg's asthma started flaring up, putting her at high risk and sending me into a spin of worst case scenarios at the risk of losing her. With our living situation becoming increasingly unsafe, we had to find a quick solution to shield Meg and save my sanity. Fortunately, my dear friend stepped in with a life-saving offer of her flat. We moved in on Friday and couldn't be happier in our love nest.
Who knows what a post-covid world will bring - but at least I've got this dream of a woman by my side to face whatever comes our way next.
CAMERON
The world is warped and twisted yet new and strangely refreshing. My sense of time has grown foggy and I struggle to recall when I last left my front door. Soon I will have to venture out, for food and sanity.
Unfortunately, due to underlying health issue, I fall into the high risk category for Covid-19, this doesn’t mean I’m at higher risk of catching the virus. However if I do, my life will be under greater threat. I am typically very laid back but this strange subconscious paranoia looms over me. When I go outside, I find myself breathing solely through my nose (I recall my P.E teacher once explaining that the nose hairs filter the air as you breath) and whilst I know this has little to no influence over the virus, I find myself doing it all the same.
I’ve been humbled by the kind messages from friends and offers of support in this time. My birthday passed and I thought little of it, but I’m sure I’ll host a post corona party when spirits are higher.
The picture I’ve painted seems bleak and yet I don’t feel the gloom. Pub quizzes have been replaced by online equivalents, and more friends than ever before can “attend” on a regular basis. The digital substitution for social interaction seems, in reality, like a much smaller barrier than many would expect and somehow life seems tremendously different but comfortingly normal...
AMY AND MATT
My partner Matt and I had our first baby last May, a gorgeous little bean who we named Rory. At four and a half months old he was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumour and we began basically living in Bristol Royal Hospital for Children from October, where he had surgery and then began chemotherapy. While Rory was having his chemotherapy, we were almost in isolation anyway, as the treatment left him with no immune system. We were already having to be really vigilant about hand-washing and strict about visitors.
Because of the intensity of his treatment, Rory contracted something called veno-occlusive disease and was moved to the Paediatric Intensive Care Unit, where our hearts are so very broken to share that he died on 11th January this year. After Rory's Celebration of Life, Matt and I took some more time off work to get our heads around life without Rory and the enormity of our grief. We had just started to go back to work and get into some sort of "new normal" only a couple of weeks before lockdown hit, and our normal was blown to pieces again, along with everyone else's. It feels like we've been living in an alternative universe since October, and it seems we will remain there for a good few months yet!
But it's not all sad - Matt and I are actually doing really well. We feel like we've had such an enormous sense of perspective thrown over our lives that as long as we're both healthy, and so are those around us, isolation isn't all that bad at all. We count ourselves lucky to have this unexpected time and space gifted to us to spend our days understanding our grief and thinking about Rory. Being in our flat almost 24/7 means we can take SO MUCH joy in talking to him, sharing our happier memories, cradling his ashes and tripping over his toys...
JEN AND FAMILY
To start, our house is a regular four people family household. Two working parents and two children. Thirteen months and four years. We both work, luckily part time, but it’s a still a three and four day week for us. And now, just like the rest of the country, we too have had to adjust and find a new ‘normal’. The first Monday of lockdown was the toughest day for me as the realisation of how things were about to change came crashing down on me and a wave of panic, sadness and frustration flooded over me. The world was being enveloped in this I couldn’t help but feel a little out of my depth. It was that first Monday that our four year old son consoled me when I cried from the shear anxiety of it all. His little four year old self comforted me in the best way he could by telling me that he will look after himself and his little brother while I work. He told me not to worry. Children have ways of seeing things so much simpler than we do and this sentiment gets me through the difficult days.
However, the truth of it is that, like us, he too has found this hard and it shows through his language and his behaviour. Some days everything is ‘boring’ and other days, he is so full of unspent energy that he is literally hanging upside down in his self-made den of pillows, blankets, duvets, cushions and whatever else he can get hold of whilst he watches his afternoon TV programme of choice.
Busy, lively, eventful. These words have felt like an understatement at times. My husband works in IT supporting financial services so is needed to facilitate the technical support for the accountants working at home. I’m a teacher and whilst our Head has been fantastic, the reality of supporting the young people and their families in more ways than just ‘home learning’, has been both a privilege and a commitment...
COSTAS, CARING IN BRISTOL VOLUNTEER
I was a couple of weeks away from completing my house sale when the Covid-19 situation escalated here in the UK. Suddenly, my house sale was looking uncertain and I could see myself being in limbo for some time. In anticipation of whatever drastic measures would be announced, I contemplated heading up to West Cumbria where I had lived for 13 months from 2018 to 2019. I was fairly certain I could find somewhere secluded to hide away for a while so I began preparing the motorhome so I could be self-sufficient for several weeks and not need to come into contact with anyone. It didn’t take long and I was almost ready to set off. I just had one or two minor things to sort in the morning and I would be able to head up after that.
That’s when the ‘lockdown’ was announced. I didn’t know what to do. I went to sleep that night with more thoughts flying around my head than usual. In the morning I felt very different to how I had the day before. I felt like I was running away from a bully. I felt like I was turning down a challenge. I actually felt like a coward. I knew deep down that there was something useful I could and should be doing but wasn’t sure what. Then, as I was scrolling through Facebook, I realised that it had been staring at me in the face all the time. I had been so wrapped up in my own selfish thoughts that the light-bulb was very slow to switch on.
Caring in Bristol had been posting more and more frequently in relation to Covid-19. I had volunteered with them for the Caring at Christmas project. I can honestly say that It was one of the most amazing, humbling and rewarding experiences of my life. I had worked as a chef many years ago and didn’t realise how much I had missed that so getting to work side by side with some of Bristol’s best chefs helping to prepare food for the homeless was really exciting. Also, the whole experience was a real eye-opener. I had no idea the homeless situation here was so bad. It really put things into perspective for me.
I immediately sent an email offering whatever help I could give and I got the response I had hoped for. I then set to work re-configuring the motorhome from ‘rural wild-camping’ mode to ‘sub-urban survival’. It was quite a relief actually as it meant not carrying anywhere near as much stuff!
That was the Tuesday 24th March. I drove down late at night and on Wednesday 25th I presented myself at the night shelter on Little Bishop St ready to get stuck in. I’ve been here for nearly 3 weeks now. The situation is very fluid and I am amazed at how well organised this current project (Cheers Drive) is, given that unlike Caring at Christmas there hasn’t been nearly a year of planning behind it. Things can and do change very rapidly. It’s a matter of ‘adapt and overcome’ which has been almost an MO for me of late.
I should have been moving out of my house now and starting a new life but instead I am working in a team of 5 chefs doing 3 days on and 3 days off preparing breakfast and lunch for hundreds of homeless and vulnerable people being housed in isolation by the local council in a bid to prevent the rapid spread of a potentially deadly virus across the city. Yes, it sounds almost like a movie blurb and when I stop and think about what is happening, it feels somewhat surreal but not quite Hollywood though. I mean it’s not exactly Will Smith beavering away in the basement lab of his house-fortress trying to find a vaccine for a zombie virus. Our kitchen isn’t that high tech but I like to think that there’s less trial and error involved in what we do (or at least I hope there is!).
It’s not an easy job though to work in close quarters with so many others whilst maintaining social distancing and following all the required extra hygiene protocols. We can’t afford for the whole team to have to self-quarantine however as that would throw a huge spanner in the works and put a massive extra work-load on the other teams. And by other teams I mean so many other teams. We have the chefs preparing the dinners at several other kitchen locations. There are the delivery people that run the food from our kitchen to the dinner kitchens from where it is all then distributed by others to the various different accommodation sites. This all requires so much co-operation and almost precision timing which is all overseen and managed by the incredible and hard-working office staff of Caring in Bristol.
The other major challenge is that of living full-time in a motorhome. For those that have never had the experience, there are some things which can so easily be taken for granted when living in a property. For example, you have to frequently refill your fresh water tank, empty the waste water tank and the least pleasant job of emptying the toilet cassette. The risk of cabin-fever is greatly increased too so having some way of keeping yourself entertained is an absolute necessity. I have several ways I do that but on my days off I find resting and sleeping work well!"