Stopping To Paint The Roses

Before these current days of quiet and still, my days were busy and full of human interaction. My mind was always dreaming of new ways to pump art and music into the blood of this old New England city. It still is: there’s just a lot more time to hear myself think now.

My name is Sara Scranton, although some New Haveners may know me for the work I do as Lipgloss Crisis. Since COVID-19 has brought many of the city’s businesses to a halt, I’ve been working on a message to help myself—and others—get through this. It’s time to stop and paint the roses. Literally.

Before COVID-19, I was constantly in motion. In a normal week, you could catch me bartending, interacting with my regulars, and making new friends daily at Three Sheets New Haven. Three Sheets is a bar whose owners let me live out my artistic dream: a place where local artists can show their work in a relaxed environment. Each month, I put together "Art In The Back Music In The Front," a music-art mash up meant to support local artists in the community. Those monthly art shows, art tag sales, live music, promotion work, and weekly events kept me busy and happy.

Multiple times a year, I would also run The State House Cabaret, a mystical evening of belly dance, silks, music, magic, burlesque and much more. It included weeks of rehearsing, creating sets, costumes, and glueing rhinestones on things until the late hours of the night.

Now, the venue is dark and doesn’t know when it might reopen. With the help of Professor M - The Black Kingpin of Swagger, we will be launching a virtual show June 6. We will be raising money for the members who are unemployed and for the State House venue which has been closed. Because, the show must go on.

I’m not used to this amount of quiet. With my photography, I usually get to capture my dear friends’ weddings. I’m used to doing boudoir photoshoots that celebrate the beauty of women’s bodies, and maternity and newborn shoots that celebrate new life. I’ve done the Patron Saints of New Haven series—a set of forty prayer cards that feature people who represent this city—twice.

Now, I hear the saints calling me to begin series number three. I see the heroes, togetherness and strength in this city now more than ever. For a year, I’ve been talking about how I want to get back to my own art. This wasn’t the particular way I was planning to do it.

I, like many of you, am learning what to do when my mind is accustomed to always planning and working. That part of it is still there, constantly in motion. There isn’t an off button. I struggle a lot with what I have named the “Quarantine Haze.” It feels like my brain is full of pea soup, so much that focusing almost seems like my new full time job (that, and washing dishes).

There are good days, when the sun is shining and I can go outside and be in nature and practice gratitude. When I am overwhelmed with optimism for the future. But there are also bad days, when I can’t really think or get out of bed. These are days when I am struck with disbelief and worrying so much about the ones that I love. When I am praying that they are ok and peaceful.

There are heartbreaking days. Recently, my mother came by to pick up a piece of artwork I made to comfort her coworker and friend Joe. Joe has been coming to my cabarets for years. Months ago, he told my mother that he would love a painting of one of his mother’s favorite pictures, a view of their barn from her kitchen window.

When my mother called me and told me that his mother had passed, I knew now was the time to paint it. Paintings of memories like this are beautiful to me, because I get a glance into someone’s life. I imagined how the warm sunlight must have felt on his mother’s skin while standing at that window.

But I was also struck with the reality of our current times. When my mother came to pick the painting up, I watched her put on plastic gloves and a mask so she could interact with me. This is our new world: watching loved ones through plastic, windows, computer screens and now, tears.

Getting back to the art that was once my entire life has been really helpful, and I am beyond grateful to have it. Motivation and focus come in waves, but I have learned that is ok and I am doing the best that I can. Forgiveness with myself is an essential tool. Art has been a way to meditate and focus on something.

I pause to remember old shading and color theory techniques. I get lost in a painting and the small details that make it complete. It has been like getting a hug from an old friend.

Perhaps the greatest joy that the resurgence of my art has given me is the reactions that people have. Recently, my friend Sarah asked me to make a picture of her smiling into the camera next to a gentleman. While working on this piece, my brush created a whole universe behind them on the canvas. I didn’t know who the man was, and why I was making the picture. I just felt the love in their eyes and followed the connection.

She told me she started to cry when she saw the picture. The man was her father, who had passed.

I love the excitement that pet owners get when they see their lil’ fur babies drawn up in a way that reflects their style. Pet portraits are fun, because I get to explore an owner’s style and their pet’s personality. Animals are so innocent and loving, and what the world really needs now. I love people reacting excitedly to jewelry I made for them with their favorite colors.

I make special bundles for people to give as gifts or birthday presents along with a hand-drawn card. I have been wanting and trying to make jewelry for months and never had the time to sit there and make sure the shapes were smooth or wiring was correct. Now I have a whole system down.

In those moments, it makes me so happy that my art brings people joy. That even for a moment, all their troubles melt away and there is delight in someone's life. I'm grateful that I can give that to anyone these days.

So, dear friends I offer some advice and hopefully a few moments of peace. Pick up a pencil, brush, clay, or a coloring book—anything. Try to make some art. Get lost in some lines, a pattern or simply coloring something in. Let it bring some calm and gratitude to your day.

Stay safe and positive New Haven. I love and miss you so much. I look forward with excitement to seeing all your life, beauty, energy and fantastic art again.

Find Sara Scranton's work online. For commission inquiries or to Patron Saint prayer cards please email artintheback@gmail.com. Her jewelry is available here. More on The State House Cabaret's virtual show is available here.