Streets of NYC are silent… clear blue skies. Not much activity, a feeling of desolation. No cabs or buses or cars flying on Broadway. All I hear is the deafening sirens of ambulances- more frequently than ever in the twenty years that I have lived… This is the spectacle of NYC without its heart and soul- its people and practices.
Mary Sullivan
I have not seen or heard an ambulance for several weeks. But then just the other day on my walk, I was startled by a blaring ambulance siren rushing out of a gas station. Why have I not heard one lately? Did it receive a sudden call? Was it going to save someone’s life? Was it a COVID-19 patient? Did the paramedics inside have PPE? What if they were going into a situation not knowing if the patient was carrying a highly contagious virus and they did not have the protective gear?
All these thoughts remained just little fluttering worries as I had no way of knowing. The idea of medics saving lives brought me back to the idea of a colorful mask. There is no written message this time—just meandering lines, textures, colors, and symbols interweaving various emotions together.
Jolanda Dranchak
Amita Rodman
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