Olena Babak

Red Line, 2020
19 x 25 in
This drawing was created in the first couple of weeks of the 2020 quarantine. There was an inescapable intensity watching the world as we know it change almost overnight. With every day, the numbers of lives impacted and taken by this new invisible threat were growing. The news had the power of paralyzing almost everyone with what seems to be the absurdity of a Sci-fi movie being screened directly on the walls of “our shelter in place” reality show homes.

As a child, I remember picking colorful cosmos flowers in my grandmother’s flower bed and plucking one petal at a time playing with them before they landed on the ground. Now it felt as if the whole earth became my grandmother’s beloved garden with flowers for picking. They were all together in one beautiful flower bed and very separate with their own destiny waiting for their inexplicably random fate.

The winds of change, the invisible enemy, was taking them petal by petal at random and stripping each of their colors before laying it on the ground. There was a line, when crossed, that was a point of no return, but that line had an ever-changing contour, twisting, interrupting and ruled by the unknown.