ANNA KATE BLAIR
Narrm Melbourne / Writer & Art Historian
Alone since March 10th.
I am beside a giant swimming pool, as large as a playing field, with elevated edges so that people lean over it as if from balconies. There are giant sparrows in the pool, each around nine metres long, and nobody knows why or how these sparrows came to be so large. I am, then, staying in a strange hotel in which each person has their own glass cube. We can’t leave our glass cubes, because of coronavirus, but the views from the cubes are a consolation. I am planning to go to a festival of enormous blossoms, but the festival is cancelled and replaced by an immersive video of a previous year’s festival. I contemplate the difference between the marching of the military and the marching of a jazz band, and then I am making friends with strangers in a queue. They ask where I am from and I am confused by the question.