Self Isolation Day 16. Clapping as an Upper Arm Exercise.

I'm starting at the end of the day - the clapping. It is without a doubt our favourite part of the day. We race from front balcony to the back to see which people are giving their best. I've realised clapping requires a lot of upper arm strength so I'm exercising at the same time as being a part of a collective and giving gratitude to those at the front And that sounds like war and in a way we have a silent, manipulative and very clever killer in our midst that we can't see, hear, taste or smell. It has backed us into our homes, it has locked the door on the economy.

Today I got up determined (after having slept in because I wake around two and think of numbers and graphs and can't get back to sleep) to be productive. But before the day had properly begun with the coffee starter, I heard from my friend with the virus. He keeps thinking he's turned the corner and then it returns with nausea, fevers, sweating and weakness. Each morning when I wake I wonder if I should try and get back and then I hear from him. I hope he beats it soon. He's my barometer. I think I'll wait it out here.

I walked, I went to the supermarket even though it was only to buy the essentials - wine and...wine. Did I tell you yesterday we decided not to drink during the week (well I did)? That didn't work. On my walk there were signs of spring, the grape vines were starting to shoot. It is the city of wine after all.

I returned to do two drawings ready for painting, finished one and started another. I spoke of only positive things (well I tried). Italy's Covid cases are dropping and they've developed a blood test that could detect fifty types of cancers early on. I think the roots of my hair are pretty white but I can't see them with the light in this place so who cares and besides, when I go out people see me and cross the road. I'm safe.

Self Isolation Day 15. Creativity isn't quarantined.

I dreamt I was in a plane whose wing clipped a mountainside but we managed to come down safely and we all emerged. I am hoping that's a metaphor for this time. My inner self lost today but gave a good fight. It suggested I stay in bed for the day as it felt like I was coming down with cough and a sniffle and headache that were only on one side (was that a strange not so common symptom?) which is a good reason to rest but I got out into fresh air and it seemed to go. I do more steps than ever because as soon as you see someone coming you cross the road or they do. I zigzagged around the streets then came home and made myself do a painting and disappeared into a realm of colour for a while.

Tonight the daughter kept us entertained by learning to Line dance online. I'm not going to lie, she was pretty darn good at it. Meanwhile back in Australia,another friend of hers found a clothes rack on the street and has nearly finished making an incredible rug using it as a frame. Another friend made a great video on going on a pub crawl within the confines of her home, something I'm ready to try this weekend. Here in our apartment in Bordeaux, Sims houses are being created with style and panache. Creativity is coming to the fore to save us in this strange time we find ourselves in. We are learning things we didn't know before which is that toilet paper and flour in a pandemic are more important than we thought. I love that here in France, bread shops have been declared essential business, makes sense really. Luckily I'm quarantined here. Also glad that here the clapping continues every night at eight for the amazing health care workers.

Mandarins in Catania against an amazing mosaic wall in the room where I stayed.

Self Isolation Day 14. Rebellion.

I awoke to flurries of snow, very brief but exciting nonetheless. I also awoke to a private internal rebellion. Yes, some part of me in the deep recesses of my mind is refusing to get on with things. There is prompts and threats taking place. 'You have to go for a walk!' 'Well actually, I don't.' ' You have to stay out of bed.' 'Why should I, it's freezing, did you see the snow? 'Sleet, it was sleet.' 'Oh,and also, I'm not painting today!' ' Why?' 'Just because.' And that inner me stamps it's foot, makes a coffee and goes back to bed to read a trashy romance. Yes, that's what has become of me on Day 14.

I do go for a brief walk but only to the supermarket and that required immense bravery (the fear is real, has the C virus been in today?) and I get out of there and take a deep breath realising I have been shallow breathing the whole time I was searching for flour. Yes, flour. Australians think it's all about toilet paper, we have bigger issues here - empty shelves where once flour thrived. When the French are in panic mode, it's obvious, they bake like most sensible people do; they don't horde toilet paper. They are my tribe.

Towards the end of the day after finishing the romance novel with the usual happy ending, I make that inner part of me help me to do some drawings. It still steadfastly refuses to paint.

On the plus side both Italy and France have had lower death rates. On the negative, France has lengthened the quarantine until 15 April. The daughter called a family meeting and we rushed out to the living room to be told we have another two weeks to go. I don't like to tell her that even that will probably be extended. We put an order in for more #Yankeecandles for our Easter isolation. I think we've eaten most of the Easter eggs (well maybe I have) but the air will be scented with #sweetbunnytreats. For now, both me and my other rebellious self agree that we are going back to bed.