Sense of Loss

I am looking at a world in which attending public events is not safe from a coronavirus point of view. Prior to the pandemic, I entertained myself by watching films at independent and mainstream cinemas, or being in the audience for talks, panels and discussions. It not only brought variety to my life, but helped me (witness and) take part in the cross-pollination of ideas in a city which can feel anti-intellectual. 

I miss this. It was with grave reluctance that I cancelled my (free) ticket to see Mona Eltahawy speak at UNSW. I want to be around other feminists and observe how they make sense of the vicious misogyny we all have to put up with these days. I haven't yet had the courage to cancel my ticket to see Gaia Vince (the author of Nomad Century) at the same venue. I have vague fantasies of finding a seat in the back row, or as far away from others as possible, making it in and out safely. With my mask, of course. 

Will I ever attend a comedy show at the Opera House again? A concert at Sydney Olympic Park? 

It's not looking good. 

And so, I grieve.