During the past year, I, like many people, found immense solace in the arts. From movies and TV shows to books and even painting, I finally had the time to indulge in my passions. The first few months of quarantine passed, and I was happily catching up on the TV shows everyone was raving about and finally making progress on my Goodreads challenge, all while holding on to the hope that soon, things would return to normal.
As we all know now, this was not the case. Before long, I started to hate everything that I used to love about the arts. The characters in the movies and books I was consuming became harsh reminders of everything I had missed out on. However foolish it may seem, I felt cheated. Suddenly, it felt like all the media and books I had been enjoying were mocking me, laughing maniacally along as another character experienced something I never would. Or so I thought.
After much wallowing and a lot of sorrow, I remembered one of the main reasons that I had fallen in love with the arts in the first place: escapism. I could blissfully ignore the fact that I couldn’t leave my house, didn’t get a graduation, and missed out on the freshman experience by losing myself in countless episodes and chapters. I found comfort in living vicariously through my favorite characters in a feeble attempt to disguise my pain. And it worked, at least for a while.
As you can imagine, though, this practice quickly turned toxic. I feel like there’s a fine line between using the arts to occasionally escape the perils of life and completely succumbing to books and movies because you feel like your life will never be as interesting or as ‘perfect’ as the ones you read about or watch. I had gladly crossed this line before I realized that even though I was experiencing so many stories and lives, I was missing out on my own.
Now, this is not just my long-winded way of saying that quarantine turned me into a Film Bro™. With restrictions easing up, I’m reminded of how much I want to do and see outside of the confines of a book or a laptop screen. So, from now on, I will be living my life through song lyrics: finding the sunshine and warmth that Lorde describes in “Solar Power,” and experiencing the “poetry in the streets” that The 1975 sings about. I will be exploring the art and culture of Toronto while taking photos I can look back on to remind myself of the adventures I’ve had. In short, I will be putting my love of the arts to good use and romanticizing my life to the fullest, and I sincerely hope that you, too, can do the same.
If you still need a push or a little inspiration, the Arts and Culture team has prepared a playlist that will hopefully guide you along your many adventures:
