Quaranzine: One Year Later

April 15, 2021
Quaranzine was a collection of creative works from the community that documents how we responded to this strange time we find ourselves in. Between April 15 and June 10, 2020, we published nine issues of Quaranzine. Now, one year later we’ve invited the community to submit art, poetry, short stories, other creative works, or simply memories or lessons learned that document this past year for this special One Year Later issue of Quaranzine.

See previous issues of Quaranzine

Click on the image to see it full size.

drawing of two health care workers, one in mask and shield, one with bruising on her face from mask — Kara Parry, Mechanicsville, “Frontline Hope” – This is a painting of a doctor working the frontline of Covid when it started. It encompasses the exhaustion that was felt by all those working through long hours, fear, and hope for better days ahead.

graphite drawing of a sekelton — Sarah Bylan, Hughesville, “As you are now, so once was I, as I am now so you shall be” – A graphite drawing depicting the passage of time. A narrative that has occupied my mind during this time. Originally drawn during quarantine while taking an art course at a local college.

Alone, No More By: Lindsey Jahn Hallways filled to the brim with kids Sitting class, at times it seems like there is no end Walking through the store looking down the isles to see what there is in store After school sports kicking a ball around yelling score, No More Now... Sitting at home so bored There is barely even a knock at our door Sitting at home missing our friends Thinking “Is there ever going to be an end”... We might feel alone, We might feel scared, Or we might just be feeling bored No need to feel like that any More I just want to let you know... You are not alone We may be apart Far away, Have nothing to do, Or just want to see our friends again, But we understand what one another is going through We are in this together, We are here for each other, When one falls down, We come to pick them back up We will help each other Until the end Always And forever We are in this together And nothing will ever change that So the next time, You feel alone, Bored, Or just thinking “Is there ever going to be an end” Just remember what I said, and feel Alone, No More — Lindsey Jahn, “Alone, No More” – I wrote this for a poetry slam in my ELA class.

painting of 5 birds on posts in the water — Aicy Karbstein, Leonardtown, “Social Distancing” – With the Covid restrictions in place for a long time, one day I decided to enjoy the water on Breton Bay and the Potomac River to relax and recharge. I passed by a sandbar and saw birds, one perched on each of the wooden posts. It inspired me to paint a bird “social distancing” artwork, because that’s what that scene reminded me of! Just like us, humans, sitting or standing 6 feet apart, these birds seemed to be exercising their part in the current events in the world! 🙂

blue and cream stone mosaic in a wooden frame — Mary Colaianni, “The Beauty of Stone” – Covid allowed many of us to pause and explore our inner artist and I personally learned how to create stone mosaics.

free motion quilting in multiple colors — Andi Cullins, “What Happened to Summer – Covid 2020″ – Fabric collage approx. 28″ x 21” – uses cotton and metallic fabrics, new and reycled, ribbons, twine, string, threads and dried leaves. This image conveys the lack of pattern and loss of stability and normalcy during the height of the covid pandemic last summer. Floral motifs and dried leaves are scattered; patterns exceed the frame of the picture as nothing is contained. Overall free-motion quilting.

quilted scene of a brick building with birdhouses in front of it — Elizabeth Dickson, Lexington Park, “In 2020 Mr. Toby Discovered a New Hobby” – Quilted wall hanging made of various cotton fabrics. Measures 36.5″x15.25″ and comes with hanging sleeve. This piece was made in summer 2020 and was very enjoyable to create. 🙂

LEAF WALK Mimicking the sound of potato chips crunching under my feet I walk thru the puddles of dull browns, ruddy reds, and pale, pale greens Having lost their vibrant hues before falling to the ground They now lay in pools, and streams, and clusters Waiting for the earth to reclaim them — Dorothy Waters, Valley Lee, “Leaf Walk”

Wooden rockfish with a fishing scene burned into it — Seth Fenton, Lusby, “Fishing” – A turning rockfish shape cut on a scroll saw. Father and son fishing hand burned on it. By SETH The Burning Brush

We must take care, not to spread our air and the germs within. So we must wear a mask, it’s not a mighty task, especially to protect others. We can’t see a smile, except in the eyes. But we must all stay wise, and keep our masks on. So we don’t get germs upon those that we care. Because germs are something you should never share. You may decorate your mask, with a smile. So it's a little more your style. Or decorate it with what you see fit, and use you wit, to make it show who you really are. It may be bizarre, but it will always get you far. So wear your mask, and keep everyone safe. Always keep a smile on your face, no matter where that may be. So that you keep everyone else safe and smiling. — Abigail Morgan, “Quarantine”

Deborah Haviland, Lexington Park, “Cotton’s Secret” – It is easy to find beauty in the plants around us. Sometimes we forget they contain complicated networks for transporting water and nutrients throughout their parts. Hidden inside the stem of the cotton plant, depicted here in fabrics derived from its harvest, are the beautiful structures that carry on the work necessary for life. At first glance we notice the organic circular bodies in the tissues, but on closer inspection we see geometric forms, including the hexagon, a familiar patchwork motif. These structures exist in other plants, of course, but knowing these shapes are present naturally, inside the plant on which we rely so heavily in the quilting arts, is a delightful secret to carry with us. Based on Claudio Divizia’s image of a cotton stem under 400x magnification. 34.5” x 42”; Commercial cotton fabrics, fabric paint, cotton embroidery threads, machine piecing, raw-edge and reverse raw-edge applique (without fusible), machine and hand quilting, hand embroidery, trapunto.

quilted scene of a town with two people walking down the street — Elizabeth Dickson, Lexington Park, “Old Town at Night 2020″ – Quilted wall hanging made of cotton and silk fabrics. Measures 45″x28.5” This quilt was made during the fall/winter of 2020 and expresses the emptiness of normally vibrant tourist-filled old towns of cities during the Covid 19 Pandemic.

James Jones, Lexington Park, “Wine and Cheese” – Watercolor on paper

manga style girl with bandaids on her arms — Kinsey Albin, “Bandaid Girl” – I worked on improving my art over quarantine. I tried to replicate an 80’s art style.

The Banjo This old banjo of mine Has been neglected For far too long I move aside the litter Of clothes and papers and bills And sit down with an old friend Familiar muscles awake Like characters in those fairy tales And I begin to tell my own story With skin and string and voice Each time more the story of me Reading I do not know Any greater satisfaction Than becoming lost Within a world Of imagination — Chad Jones, Callaway, “Four Short Poems: She is Eternal, Drive, The Banjo, and Reading” – I delved into musical composition and songwriting this past year. More recent, I began to explore the writing of poetry. This is a set of four short poems concerned with themes of time, nature, music, solitude, and the written word.

painting of a yellow house behind several trees — Sidney Maynard, Mechanicsville, “My Favorite Place” – I painted this during quarantine in the midst of Covid-19, I wanted to paint the place I love to go to and the beautiful yellow house I wished I could go back to instead of being stuck in the difficult times of the pandemic. Jekyll Island, Georgia makes me happy so I painted my happy place to keep me hopeful I can go back there again one day soon.

U.S.A. (an underlying anagram) page 1 of 2 I wonder the fate of these United States of America Home of We the People and We hold these truths to be self-evident I wonder the fate of these United States of America These Undiet(ed) States of America That feed on the fear generated by those whose fences we unknowingly build meant to keep us out/meant to keep us in That count their meals by the fortunes of 500 or more who watch ascending and descending doughlines with no thought for those without bread I wonder the fate of these United States of America These Unedit(ed) States of America Where washing your mouth out with soap is not something we do any more Where sticks and stones can break your bones and words can forever hurt you Where political correctness/niceties are no longer the norm if they ever truly were I wonder the fate of these United States of America These Untide(d) States of America That batter and pound against domestic and foreign shores breaking apart into bits and pieces That fight against the ebb and flow of unity and cooperation I wonder the fate of these United States of America These Untied States of America Seemingly leaning toward a separatist/split existence Maybe you’re vilified for your choice in the rainbow Maybe you’re categorized by your pick on the ballot Maybe you’re ridiculed for your religious/non-religious beliefs Maybe you’re characterized by the melanin in your skin U.S.A. (an underlying anagram) page 2 of 2 I ponder the fate of these United States of America And sometimes fear For me For family For friends For We the People — D. Waters, “U.S.A. (an underlying anagram)”

In the quarantine good things happened  We got a dog and she is the cutes puppy ever  I can hang out with my friends more because there is more time  My dad was able to have more projects done in the back yard that shed ad on is so nice  Ummm  More time to read :/ — Keegan Griffith, “The good things that came” – In the quarantine, many things happened but the things that are my favorite.

6 photos of art created from jewelry, guitar and fan parts, and other discarded pieces — Sharon Stapf, Hollywood, “Dreaming of Music and Dragon Flies” – When stores shutdown, what is an artist to do but use what you have on hand. Broken guitars and discarded fan parts along with broken jewelry became my mediums.

image of a small dog — Brandy O’Shields, Mechanicsville, “Moby – Pet Pyrography” – Peoples passion for their pets is over whelming. I get many pet portrait commissions that are memorials for their lost pets. If I can bring tears of joy that bubble up from their memories when the walk past their burning then I’ve done my job bringing a small ounce of happiness to their grief and remembrance. 10″ x 14″ Oval Pyrography on American Basswood

painted plate with image of a mountain — Carla Werme, Lexington Park, “Mt Diablo Memories” – I have fond memories of growing up near this mountain in the San Francisco East Bay

watercolor of pink, purple, and yellow flowers — James Jones, Lexington Park, “Spring Bouquet” – Watercolor on Paper

for my sunshine: i would be the trunk you gnaw against to rest your beaver teeth and i’d trip in cheerful clamor to the rustling ground beneath my trajectory determined as you whittle word by word i would fall within your forest and i’d know that i am heard i would catch the serpent scales you shed to surface smooth and sleek in the soft and shining sunrise as a truer form you seek your new skin is always growing just beneath the one you wear i would touch your reinventions, if allowed, with all my care i would be the beach where you can reach a shell in shelter’s size offered up among detritus, trash and treasure i comprise every part contains a story, laid upon the sand to find and it’s yours to seek a home in, as i’ve found a home in kind i would grow my clover by the hollow tree that bears your hive watching bright as from my nectar, gold ambrosia you derive though i cannot bloom forever, and you cannot shed your sting in the winter’s wilt and slumber, i would warm you ‘til the spring - from your lovely — Kelly McGowan, Charlotte Hall, “for my sunshine” – on february 8, 2017, i talked to a virtual stranger online, and it was the start of one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. what began as mutual enjoyment of the same story quickly grew into friendship, and slowly grew into love, and three years later – well, three years and eight days, if you want to split hairs – came the start of our relationship! unfortunately, barely two months after that came the start of quarantine. suddenly every travel plan we’d started to form was abruptly and indefinitely canceled, and even after a year-plus of dating, we still have yet to meet each other in person. but even for as frustrating as it’s been to be so far away from them… it’s given us the time and space we both needed to learn how to love and be loved by each other, and i can’t help but be grateful for that. i wrote this poem for them for our six-month anniversary last august, and i still mean every word of it. someday i’ll get to hold their hand.

THE SIEGE OF TWENTY ONE Oh, remember the siege of twenty-one When gangs arrived with knives and guns To rattle the town with might and force To batter the windows, to stay the course To build makeshift gallows to hang the accused Already found guilty Already abused They came to damage They came to flaunt They came to frighten They came to haunt The nightmares lingered for those within The hallowed walls of those kept in Though they’d prospered They’d learned They’d kept their place And lived in the boundaries with their own race Please, remember the siege of twenty-one When gangs arrived with knives and guns (Black Wall Street, Greenwood, Tulsa, Oklahoma - Race Riot 1921) — D. Waters, “The Siege of Twenty One” – The events from January 2021 gave me an idea for this remembrance.

The life we knew; or did we? by Grace Brown. Click to read the story - PDF Download

Grace Brown, Hollywood, “The life we knew; or did we?” – It is mostly talking about how crazy this year is, and how much we have lost. But in these things we have lost we have gained so much.

Submissions from The ARC Maryland
This artwork was created as part of The ARC Maryland’s “Together We’re Better” school inclusion program initiative. The objective of the program is to raise awareness of the value and importance of inclusion of students with disabilities. One component of the program is an Art Contest for elementary and middle school students. These are the 2021 entries.

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