This Party Sucks I Could Be at Home Doing Art

Colour us impressed by your sharply tinted art in these trying times.

The Washington Post recently asked readers to share artwork that they have been creating during the pandemic, and received more than than 650 submissions.

Art came from about (Washington and its surrounding states) and far (Germany and England, with a nod to Guatemala). The entrants spanned from tweens to artists in their 90s. And the pick of media included oil and acrylic, flowers, cinder blocks, a dryer sheet and hot glue.

The Post considered not only the quality and creativity of the fine art, simply also the fascinating accompanying backstories. Enduring quarantines, some artists rendered what isolation and loneliness felt similar, while others depicted longed-for social scenes from a pre-pandemic fourth dimension.

Politics sometimes came into play — with one entrant cleverly adapting a stimulus bank check — and masks were a frequent feature. Some representational works transported us to a specific place, and some abstract works conveyed a distinct mood or state of mind. Some celebrated life, and some reflected a darkness or meditation on death.

Hither are The Post's favorites:

(Note: The artists' words have been edited for length and clarity.)

"Social Distancing in The Mission" past Jennifer Thou. Potter, 45, San Francisco: "I drew this after picking up groceries one day. Equally I walked around the neighborhood, I was heartened to see how people and small businesses were adapting. Even though nosotros can't socialize in the usual way, seeing everyone make an attempt strengthens the sense of customs I feel, and I wanted to share that feeling with others." (Jennifer One thousand. Potter)

"Social Distancing in the Mission"

Jennifer M. Potter, 45, San Francisco

Created using the iProcreate app on an iPad

"I drew this later on picking upward groceries one day. As I walked effectually the neighborhood, I was heartened to run across how people and small-scale businesses were adapting. Even though we tin't socialize in the usual way, seeing everyone make an effort strengthens the sense of community I experience, and I wanted to share that feeling with others."

"Distancing Demote" by Kimberly A. Kelzer, 62, Freeland. "I used to make furniture and was thinking well-nigh how we now have to go along our distance, fifty-fifty to socialize - what if you had a demote that made yous sit half-dozen' apart? I had some quondam beams in my one thousand, broken tape measure and the cinder blocks- didn't even demand to leave home to build it! It is: 18"h x 108"50 10 13"deep. Made of dyed black Fir. Information technology likewise will allow you to sit closer once this has passed. I put information technology at the stop of my drive way past the sidewalk where a lot of walkers and dogs pass everyday- I wanted to communicate with passersby that we can have care of each other by keeping our altitude right at present, but nevertheless sit, admire the view, chat even and keep vi" apart."

"Distancing Bench"

Kimberly A. Kelzer, 62, Freeland, Launder.

Dyed blackness fir wood, tape measure, cinder blocks

"I used to make furniture and was thinking about how we now have to keep our altitude, even to socialize — what if y'all had a bench that made you sit half-dozen feet apart? I put information technology at the cease of my driveway. I wanted to communicate with passersby that we tin take care of each other by keeping our distance correct at present, but still sit, admire the view and chat, even."

"Peaceful lord Buddha" past Gladsona Somalal, 37, Fulsom: "I started painting Buddha during lockdown catamenia in social club to cope with tension due to pandemic episode. Painting this abstract of Buddha helped me calm down as I was feeling equally if serenity was flowing to me from him. I hope our globe be filled with peace and well-being soon." (Gladsona Somalal)

"Peaceful Lord Buddha"

Gladsona Somalal, 37, Folsom, Calif.

Canvas and acrylic paint

"I started painting during [the] lockdown period to cope with tension due to [the] pandemic. Painting this abstruse of Buddha helped me calm down, every bit I was feeling as if serenity was flowing to me from him. I hope our globe [will] be filled with peace and well-being soon."

"Creek" by Landry Dunand, 39, Takoma Park, Dr..: "I used my old large-format photographic camera, purchased many years ago in Thailand. Before the pandemic, I decided to revive it to shoot portraits. But with social distancing, I started shooting Landscape, which I never did earlier, but I found a sense of peace and satisfaction in shooting long exposure Landscape, taking an hr of setup, preparation, pouring plates, developing for each photograph. Sligo Creek is just down the hill from my firm. It inspired the setting of the book "Span to Terabithia." It is something of a magical place. I go there every day to run, walk or have photos and look at the nature changing constantly."

"Creek"

Landry Dunand, 39, Takoma Park, Doctor.

eight-by-ten-inch tintype, moisture plate collodion

"I used my old large-format camera, purchased many years agone in Thailand. With social distancing, I found a sense of peace and satisfaction in shooting long-exposure landscape. I shot Sligo Creek just down the hill from my house. [It inspired the setting of the book "The Bridge to Terabithia."] It is something of a magical place — I go there every day to run, walk or take photos and await at the nature changing constantly."

"Doctor" by Lisa Goren, lx, Hyde Park: "A friend of mine is a doctor (and an artist) and at the beginning of the pandemic, she posted a photo of her looking and then beaten upward. I did this mixed media with used dryer sheets for the mask considering I didn't want to apply anything that could actually make a mask. Since and so, I've done nigh 10 others based on photos of wellness intendance workers injured/bruised past their masks. Virtually of the others are not black and white."

"Dr."

Lisa Goren, 60, Hyde Park, Mass.

Watercolor, charcoal, dryer sheet

"A friend of mine is a doctor and an artist, and at the first of the pandemic, she posted a photo of her looking so beaten up. I used dryer sheets for the mask because I didn't want to apply anything that could actually make a mask. Since and so, I've done most ten others based on photos of health-care workers injured or hobbling by their masks."

"El Cadejo" by Mayra Schäfer, 67, Bad Reichenhall, Germany: "Beingness in lock downward because of the coronavirus is an feel different anything I've lived through earlier. It is numbing, frightening, frustrating. It makes me feel vulnerable and powerless. I was planning to travel to my home country, Republic of guatemala, at the end of March. Merely then the frontiers of the land, like that of many others around the globe, were closed downward. At first I was like paralyzed. I could only watch the news or read newspapers online, as if waiting for it all to be gone from ane mean solar day to the other. I have lived most of my life away from my dwelling house country, visiting one time a year. The fact that I cannot get at that place at present nor I know when I'll be able to has ignited in me a kind of homesickness I did not know before. I just finished this painting. It is my interpretation of a scary, yet protective figure of the Guatemalan folklore (El Cadejo is a blackness domestic dog with burning eyes that takes care of drunkards who have fallen asleep lying on the street). Information technology was my style of "traveling" to Guatemala while being unable to exercise so. Looking at it now, it feels like an anchor." (Mayra Schäfer)

"El Cadejo"

Mayra Fernandez, 67, Bad Reichenhall, Federal republic of germany.

Acrylic on sheet

"Being in lockdown because of the coronavirus is numbing, frightening, frustrating. Information technology makes me feel vulnerable and powerless. I was planning to travel to my home country, Guatemala, at the cease of March but so [borders were] airtight. [This has] ignited a kind of homesickness I did non know earlier. This painting is my interpretation of a scary, nevertheless protective figure of the Guatemalan folklore — 'el cadejo' is a blackness dog with burning optics that takes care of drunkards who have fallen comatose lying on the street. It was my fashion of 'traveling' to Guatemala while being unable to practice so. Looking at it at present, it feels like an anchor."

"Fifty'eau de Bleach" past Bambi Ramsey, 45, Redding, Calif.: "I did this quick sketch after a couple of weeks of shelter from dwelling house. (Well before the suggestion to inject bleach, don't do information technology!). My husband is an essential worker so constant sanitizing of surfaces had left my pare and clothes scented with Clorox water, the family teasing that it was my new perfume."

"50'eau de Bleach"

Bambi Ramsey, 45, Redding, Calif.

Digital (Procreate app)

"I did this quick sketch subsequently a couple of weeks of shelter from home. My hubby is an essential worker, so constant sanitizing of surfaces left my skin and wearing apparel scented with Clorox water — family [teased] that it was my new perfume."

"Group Portrait" by Jacqueline Kudo, 50, New York City: "A group portrait-which one is the most of import? If each one of us is light in the nighttime, isn't it wonderful to see the other lights around us? It's as mysterious equally seeing the stars of the creation in the dark of nighttime. This is the last painting of a long day of paintings started on location. These canvases were started as the first coronavirus cases began to announced in the country. I knew this day would exist the concluding day I could paint outside for a long time. Coincidentally, that day was the supermoon and also a holy twenty-four hour period on some religious calendars. It was amazing to come across the supermoon setting in the forenoon. The thrilling moment is a skillful example of why and then many painters dear to pigment on site. The paintings from this twenty-four hours are role of a series of views of lower Manhattan from across the Eastward River and across the Hudson River. The paintings become mirror images of this view of the city, and each canvas is an investigation into reflection considering of the h2o. This location is an expanse that is close to where I met an of import teacher to me, and also an area that is relatively quiet and peaceful (despite the BQE). Because it was a special day, I worked on these paintings saying prayers and mantras and wishing for the all-time for the urban center. Information technology all continues as I am finishing these paintings in lockdown."

"Group Portrait (piece of work in progress)"

Jacqueline Kudo, 50, Brooklyn

Oil on canvas

"If each one of us is low-cal in the night, isn't information technology wonderful to meet the other lights effectually us? This is the final painting of a long day of paintings started on location [a series of views of Lower Manhattan from across the East River and beyond the Hudson River]. These canvases were started equally the start coronavirus cases began to appear in the country. I knew this twenty-four hours would exist the terminal solar day I could paint outside for a long time. Coincidentally, that day was the supermoon and also a holy twenty-four hour period on some religious calendars. Because information technology was a special twenty-four hours, I worked on these paintings proverb prayers and mantras and wishing for the best for the urban center. Information technology all continues as I am finishing these paintings in lockdown."

"Mask Series #3: Stimulus Bank check" past Jennifer Markowitz, 52, Raleigh, N.C.: "I'1000 a textile/cobweb artist and accept been trying to find the right creative response to this crisis. I sew everything by mitt so didn't think masks I make should be wearable. And so I'm working on a series of them as objects, each revealing a certain truth near our current times."

"Mask Series #three: 'Stimulus Check' "

Jennifer Markowitz, 52, Raleigh, N.C.

Paw-embroidered on silk

"I'm a fabric and cobweb creative person and accept been trying to find the right artistic response to this crisis. I sew everything by hand, so I didn't think masks I brand should exist vesture. So I'chiliad working on a series of them as objects, each revealing a sure truth about our times."

"Endurance" by Jammie Holmes, 36, Dallas: "This painting is about endurance. Nearly like no affair what you will go through in life sometimes cute things can come up from it. You tin can see a cement blossom pot with a green constitute growing from it symbolizing growth from crude conditions. You tin see the expressions of the faces of me and my brother that'due south looking worn only nevertheless yet maintaining to do what'southward normal to united states of america. This painting is a symbol for my whole family. I like to show the within and exterior of and home or whatsoever type of setting. 2 black men and a soft color wall paper groundwork making things seem less intimidating. Sometimes I experience every bit a blackness homo we have to ever be on guard. Always ready to fight and survive." (Jammie Holmes)

"Endurance"

Jammie Holmes, 36, Dallas

Acrylic and oil pastels on canvas

"This painting is nearly endurance. Like no thing what yous will go through in life, sometimes beautiful things can come from it. You can run into a cement flower pot with a green constitute growing from it, symbolizing growth from rough conditions. Y'all can come across the expressions of the faces of me and my brother — looking worn only yet withal maintaining what'south normal to us. This painting is a symbol for my whole family. I similar to bear witness the inside and exterior. Two black men and a soft color wallpaper background [make] things seem less intimidating. Sometimes I feel as a black human being, nosotros have to ever be on guard — always ready to fight and survive."

"A quiet place" past Silviya Georgieva-Sellvida, 39, London: "My artwork "A quiet place" collage is inspired and created during the lockdown in London. This is me, my kid, make a photo of me on the window when it was not possible to go out and basically this was our hope and connexion with the discussion, nature, surroundings. After that, I was really inspired to make my vision of this lovely photo. I'yard a visual creative person and mum and it'southward actually of import to limited my self, my feelings. A quiet place is a collage on canvas. I cut different textured paper and composed later on that."

"A Quiet Place"

Silviya Georgieva-Sellvida, 39, London

Textured newspaper; collage on canvas

"My collage is inspired past, and created during, the lockdown in London. This is me. My kid [fabricated] a photograph of me in the window when it was not possible to go out, and basically this was our hope and connection with the world, nature, surroundings. After that, I was inspired to make my vision of this lovely photo. I'm a visual creative person and a mum, and [it is] really important to express my feelings."

"Agree Me" by Cheryl L. Zemke, 56, Riverview: "Considering life with Covid-xix and the time to come wearing masks and gloves when exposed to others led me to consider the restrictions they had a intimacy and our innate need for personal contact with others."

"Hold Me"

Cheryl L. Zemke, 56, Riverview, Mich.

Acrylic

"Considering life with covid-19 and the future [of] wearing masks and gloves when exposed to others led me to consider the restrictions. [I'yard thinking of] an intimacy and our innate need for personal contact with others."

"A world United" by Vasu Tolia, 69, Bloomfield Hills, Mich.: "Medicine has always been my first passion and during these unprecedented, tumultuous times, information technology beckons me once more every bit I spotter helplessly from the sidelines now. Since my retirement as a medico, I've poured my creativity into fine art and poetry. So creating this kind of response came naturally to me."

"A Earth United"

Vasu Tolia, 69, Bloomfield Hills, Mich.

Mixed media on canvas

"Medicine has always been my first passion. And during these unprecedented, tumultuous times, it beckons me again every bit I scout helplessly from the sidelines now. Since my retirement as a physician, I've poured my inventiveness into fine art and poetry, and then creating this kind of response came naturally to me."

"Moody Little Guy" by Elizabeth Lana, 52, Pittsburgh: "I love to paint large. In the time of corona, I accept a small dwelling studio. Watching the long lines at the food bank, I wanted to help. I created an substitution [and donate the gain] to the Greater Pittsburgh Food Depository financial institution. Buyers make a direct donation and send me a screen shot of a receipt. All sales accept been local, and they pick the paintings up off my porch."

"Moody Little Guy"

Elizabeth Lana, 52, Pittsburgh

Acrylic on forest console

"I love to paint large. In the time of corona, I have a small home studio. Watching the long lines at the food bank, I wanted to help. I created an exchange [and donate the proceeds] to the Greater Pittsburgh Food Depository financial institution. Buyers make a direct donation and send me a screen shot of a receipt. All sales have been local, and they pick the paintings upward off my porch."

"Reviveresco tropicae (Resurge)" by Zuania Muñiz Meléndez, 34, San Juan, Puerto Rico: "Artist Argument: What I one time was, ceased to exist. The abrupt changes I have experienced since the finish of 2017 caused by Hurricane María and the recent pandemic have destroyed my stability, my mode of doing things and the mode I relate to others. It is every bit if life has plowed my land and sown salt in the furrows. Merely from that same table salt that sterilized me, that destroyed me, is where a new me arises. I never seen before, imagined, dreamed. Only possible from the chaos and scarcity that drive me to innovate and grow. I am non the only one, I am accompanied past thousands of people who are reborn in a totally unexpected mode. We are new flowers that emerge with more strength, set to face up the new challenges that lie ahead. How did I created: I collected flowers from my yard and neighborhood. I selected the parts of the ones that I wanted to use to create the new flower. I used hot mucilage to get it together. I used a wire or a stick to agree it in place with the aid of my husband at the moment of taking the photograph. The table salt at the bottom was created using a plastic bowl which was "painted" with white gum to adhere the table salt, then information technology was filled with more common salt creating the salt sculpture. Why did I created: I created to save my self from all that has happened to my self since 2017. We, Puerto Ricans, have suffered a lot since 2017. Subsequently the 2 hurricanes I lost my stable job and got depressed. A lot of people got emotionally sick with the earthquakes and now the pandemic. The new virus took my plans and my dream away. I was getting anxious and started meditating almost my life. I challenge my self again to go stronger. That'due south where the idea came. I enjoyed the process. It kept me occupied and pushed out the negative thoughts with positive ones. What does it ways to me: This project means a lot to me. It was created from the moment I decided to learn from this experience and think that since the beginning of the earth chaos has played an of import part in creating new and astonishing things. Destruction is part of life, it takes out what we used to know creating uncertainty and hurting but at the cease the result is even better. That is the history of the world. THIS IS THE Fourth dimension FOR NEW FLOWERS TO Emerge FROM Table salt."

" Reviveresco tropicae (Resurge) "

Zuania Muñiz Meléndez, 34, San Juan, Puerto Rico

Flowers, wire, hot and white glue, cardboard, plastic bowl and salt.

"The abrupt changes I have experienced since the end of 2017, caused by Hurricane María and the contempo pandemic, have destroyed my stability — my manner of doing things and the manner I chronicle to others. It is as if life has plowed my country and sown salt in the furrows. Merely from that same salt that sterilized me, that destroyed me, is where a new me arises. One never seen earlier, imagined, dreamed — only possible from the anarchy and scarcity that drives me to innovate and grow. We are new flowers that emerge with more than forcefulness, set up to face the new challenges that lie ahead."

"Into The Void" by Dina D'Argo, 56, Springfield, Tenn.: "Into The Void symbolizes stepping into the unknown; the idea of life "later the pandemic" and the insecurity of not knowing what lies ahead. The veil symbolizes not simply the unwillingness to accept reality, but also our cultural preoccupation with covering or uncovering one's face, and what it represents or says virtually who nosotros are equally a society. In a greater sense, this paradigm is about the space between mortality and a spiritual state. Information technology explores the thought of the afterlife; how niggling nosotros know most information technology despite how much we theorize and ponder it, and how unprepared we are to confront it. I created this piece to soothe my own restless mind; to prepare myself for the possibility that during this pandemic, I may lose a loved one or lose my own life. And to remind myself that life is fluid and e'er-irresolute, and it is okay not to know what lies alee."

"Into the Void"

Dina D'Argo, 56, Springfield, Tenn.

Acrylic on canvas

" 'Into the Void' symbolizes stepping into the unknown — the idea of life 'after the pandemic' and the insecurity of not knowing what lies ahead. The veil symbolizes not but the unwillingness to take reality, only too our cultural preoccupation with roofing or uncovering i's face, and what it represents or says about who we are as a society. In a greater sense, this image is near the space between mortality and a spiritual state. I created this piece to sooth my own restless heed — to gear up myself for the possibility that during this pandemic, I may lose a loved one or lose my own life. And to remind myself that life is fluid and e'er-irresolute, and it is okay non to know what lies ahead."

"Covid-nineteen-Trash-Campbell's" by Mary L. Aro, 90, Grosse Pointe Park, Mich.: "I was inspired to paint trash when a nurse at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit liked 1 of my paintings of a crushed beer can. I gave her the painting. I painted another tin can and that led me to start more paintings of trash. My family and friends started to bring me pieces of trash institute on their Covid walks in Detroit, Grosse Pointe, and along the river. They were excited to find other things and bring them to me. I don't go exterior so they drib off the trash in my garage where I get out them for a few days before bringing them inside. I lay them out on the floor and choose which ones to pigment. I've made nearly twenty of these paintings and then far. The trash has very interesting abstract shapes. It's a challenge to paint them. At xc, I accept a difficult fourth dimension with a shaky hand. I dearest the beautiful colors, the creased and wrinkled, dirty parts. The cans are luminous and shimmery. I recall it's nice that my paintings involve other people--kind of a collaborate effort. Friends and family contribute and are excited to find these objects and it gives them some satisfaction in helping to create the art. It may assistance people to understand that dazzler can be institute anywhere." (Mary L. Aro)

"Covid-19 Trash Campbell's"

Mary Fifty. Aro, 90, Grosse Pointe Park, Mich.

Watercolor, graphite, colored pencil on paper

"I was inspired to paint trash when a nurse at Henry Ford Infirmary in Detroit liked i of my paintings of a crushed beer can. I gave her the painting. My family and friends started to bring me pieces of trash found on their covid walks. I don't get exterior, so they drop off the trash in my garage. The trash has very interesting abstruse shapes. It'due south a challenge to paint them. At 90, I have a difficult time with a shaky hand. I beloved the beautiful colors, the creased and wrinkled, dirty parts. The cans are luminous and shimmery. I think it'due south nice that my paintings involve other people — kind of a collaborative endeavour."

"Covid-19 Diary Excerpt" by Natalie Dupille, 28, Seattle: "I am a cartoonist and illustrator and have been creating semiregular illustrated diary pages both for myself and my community. Information technology's been helpful to procedure and acknowledge the wide range of emotions that comes from such an absurd situation - the silliness of partners/roommates, the dubiousness and fearfulness, and the day-to-mean solar day moments."

"Covid-19 Diary Excerpt"

Natalie Dupille, 28, Seattle

Watercolor and ink on paper

"I have been creating semiregular illustrated diary pages both for myself and my community. It's been helpful to process and admit the wide range of emotions that comes from such an absurd situation — the silliness of partners/roommates, the doubtfulness and fear, and the mean solar day-to-twenty-four hours moments."

"Ode To Helen Rosner's Roast Chicken" by Agnes Barton-Sabo, 39, Corvallis, Ore.: "I've been having a hard time feeling creative in the usual ways I piece of work, so as I cook from what'south available in my pantry, I'chiliad challenging myself to think of art projects to practice with materials I already have effectually the firm, like a few years' worth of The New Yorker. Get-go I made a paper wig. Then I dialed information technology upwardly a notch and I created a papier-mâché hat as an ode to New Yorker food writer Helen Rosner and her infamous viral post nigh drying chicken peel with a hair dryer before roasting. In an additional nod to Ms. Rosner'due south Bristles Award-winning essay about craven tenders, I fabricated a "wig reveal" video, lifting up the lid to shower myself with papier-mâché chicken tenders. My quarantine crafting (and cooking!) style is over-the-meridian ridiculous, anything to brand myself and friends on the internet involuntarily swear or snort laugh. I think any uplifting and joyful moments are and so important correct at present, (and always), to help annul the corporeality of negativity and stressful information nosotros are constantly bombarded with. Some days I accept to refine my To Do List to 1 detail: Don't Get Sucked In To Despair. Making annihilation with my hands helps me feel like I can keep going, and as well gives me something to focus on besides worrying, reading too much news, or falling into a social media scroll hole. Subsequently this outrageous lid I'chiliad feeling pretty obsessed with papier-mâché once more so I'one thousand going to construct a fantasy dinner party since I tin can't have a real one right now."

"Ode to Helen Rosner's Roast Craven"

Agnes Barton-Sabo, 39, Corvallis, Ore.

Flour, water, masking tape, two issues of the New Yorker, acrylic paint

"As I cook from what's available in my pantry, I'm challenging myself to remember of art projects to do with materials I already accept around the house — like a few years' worth of the New Yorker. Offset I made a paper wig. Then I dialed it upwardly a notch and I created a papier-mâché lid as an ode to New Yorker food writer Helen Rosner and her infamous viral mail service about drying chicken skin with a hair dryer before roasting. In an additional nod to Ms. Rosner'southward Beard Award-winning essay about chicken tenders, I fabricated a 'wig reveal' video, lifting upwardly the hat to shower myself with papier-mâché chicken tenders. My quarantine crafting and cooking style is over-the-top ridiculous. I think any uplifting and joyful moments are so of import correct now to assist counteract the amount of negativity and stressful information we are constantly bombarded with."

"Corona Rises" by Tomás Serrano, 59, Lexington, Ky.: "I'm the cartoonist of an online newspaper in Spain, but I'm living in Kentucky. I saw the alarming news of the Covid cases increase in New York, and tried to capture the feeling in a cartoon of everyday's dawn transforming the Sun into a virus that invades the streets."

"Corona Rises"

Tomás Serrano, 59, Lexington, Ky.

Digital subsequently pencil and ink

"I'm the cartoonist of an online newspaper in Spain, but I'thou living in Kentucky. I saw the alarming news of the covid cases increase in New York, and tried to capture the feeling in a drawing of every 24-hour interval's dawn transforming the sun into a virus that invades the streets."