Coffee-Break
Susie Walter  

When the pandemic first started, my beloved coffee shop, Café Grumpy, closed its doors. I missed going to the shop, as it was a gathering place in the neighborhood. I especially missed seeing Lee, one of the managers, who is an amazing painter and volunteered in our Educational Alliance Art School Painting Studio before we closed in-person programs. As I grew more accustomed to staying in, I found that my coffee-making at home became more of a ritual for me. I was reminded of the value of beautiful objects in my daily life as I used this graceful, hand-carved, wooden coffee scoop that I bought in Sapporo, Japan years before. As our online Art School took root, I was inspired by our artists who came together as a community to stay connected and creative during such a difficult time. 

Newspaper, Computer, Bed
Hilary Marshak 

Hours and hours every day since March 18th 2020, my last day in the office. 

All Creatures Big and Small
Gabriela Peñaherrera 

A few months before the Covid-19 lockdown, my friend, who knows how much of an animal lover I am, gave me this stuffed elephant from the World Wildlife Fund, as a Christmas gift. This little elephant would represent a generous contribution my friend made in my name to help conservation efforts of the African Elephant. Ellie, as I would come to call her, would not know how much she would help me during the first few months of this unpredictable and life-changing year. Every night, Ellie and I would doze off after what seemed like another day repeating itself — almost like we were living in the movie Groundhog Day, and time had no meaning anymore. Every morning, I would wake up to what seemed like a plethora of bad news, to which I developed an insurmountable fear of the unknown. As time passed and things started to look a bit brighter in the fall of 2020, Ellie still provided so much comfort and a reminder that with hope and unity, we could defeat this season of never-ending chaos. Flash-forward to a year later, Ellie is still my little bedtime companion, as she is a reminder that our city and our world can overcome, come together, and defeat the virus. 

Pink Slipper
Helen Pfeffer

Like everyone else, I've made a lot of changes in my day-to-day life over the course of the past year, from the way I worked (remotely) to the way I socialized (online). I learned to shuck oysters and make a wide - maybe too wide - variety of cocktails. I even got better at some things, like listening without interrupting (. O of necessity, since Zoom calls descend into chaos, unless everyone pauses to let others finish).  
 
And I also got worse at some things. I've never been much of a snappy dresser, and the pandemic hasn't helped. For starters, since the only person who sees me most days is the one I live with, I need only concern myself with what covers my top half, because my bottom half is almost never visible to anyone I work or socialize with. Which means I've pretty much given up wearing shoes altogether, and now pad about in my slippers all day. And not just inside my apartment. I get the mail in my slippers. I visit the laundry room in my slippers. I take the recycling down in my slippers. Once, on my way out to meet friends for a rare al fresco drink, I made it out the back door of my building and partway to the street before I realized I still had my slippers on.  
 
So here, one of my slippers, looking somewhat the worse for wear, unsurprisingly.