Robert Weiss

Cooking at home COVID-19 quarantine.

March-May 2020

March 15, 2020

The pandemic has stopped my incessant travel and desire to experience more lives and more cultures as I live the solitude of my inner circle of friends and family. I mourn the state of our fragile planet and suffering of all beings. Incarnations in a life filled with continuous change moving from my adolescent work in photography to undergraduate work in radio, TV and film to majors in Zoology, English Lit and Film Production to graduate degrees in medicine with thirty years working in the nuanced field of a plastic surgery subspecialty. I have written medical texts, published in academia and currently medical mission memoirs. I now focus on living, cherishing the creativity and beauty of cooking, working the land, maintaining my health and body, coexisting with all creatures, revisiting water-color last embraced in childhood and reconnecting with my passion for photography. I embrace the artistic expression that has given me a sense of continuity through my life.

Watercolors COVID-19 Quarantine

L-R. Covid-19 Nights, Covid-19 Born, Strength, Sebastian, Bird, Jazzy.

My Places

L-R. My Chicago 1, My Chicago 2, My Michigan.

My Chicago Now


June 15, 2020
Wicker Park, Milwaukee Avenue between North and Division.


This street is known for multi-cultural, multi-generational energy; every storefront alive. Post onset of Covid-19 and the uprising in response to the murder of George Floyd, the area is absent for but a few people, blocks apart. More than half the storefronts are boarded up and painted reflecting the phenomenal energy and passion of this resilient neighborhood. The transformation is gut-beautiful and so painful and frightening.

Wacker Drive and State Street, Chicago Loop, June 2020; New Buffalo, Michigan, June 2020.

Collaboration: Robert Weiss and Dolores Wilber

July 17, 2020

“Say Their Name” photos taken on Broadway Avenue between Belmont and Addison in Chicago.

July 29, 2020

Time has lost its orderliness; weeks, days, hours merge and blend. I am unable to unscramble them. My tendency to organize and categorize has lost its importance as I surrender. I don’t seem to care what day or hour or particular moment in time it is. After decades of trying to live in the moment I am inadvertently actually living in the moment. Floating in an abundance of unstructured time I find myself lost in the that moment. At times I slip into long-standing behavior, ruminating about past grievances and future worries. Worries aggravated and magnified by the pandemic’s ominous effects blanketing concerns of climate change, racial issues, neo-fascism, the ever expanding ugly side of capitalism, military excess, police brutality and the injustice of our politically, financially, self-promoting dog and pony show legal system - which clearly has little to do with truth and justice - as I have experienced at a visceral level. I am tired of the self-promoting dishonesty of academia ranging from research manipulation to outright fraud manifest in the dangerous relatively unrestrained greedy behavior of Big Pharma that contributed to the death of my first wife of twenty years and directly caused the unnecessary death of my healthy mother.

I am acutely aware of the hypocrisy, self-centered, oftentimes malevolent behavior of humans absent kindness, brotherhood and support in crisis. I am energized by the miracle and bounty of my garden, the animals and beauty of nature where I am so happy to be immersed.

I miss much of my old normal: personal contact with my friends, sharing a meal in person, sharing a drink in person, intimate, private moments in person. I miss volunteering, donating my surgical skill and ability abroad. I would be happy to never see another self-centered person not wearing a mask or wearing a mask under their nose or chin, putting others at risk.

I have deep gratitude. Gratitude for my health. Gratitude for the health and loving supportive relationships I have with my wife, my family and my friends. Gratitude for my pets, birds, nature and the multitude of disparate life experiences that I have lived.

 September 26, 2020


“I Am a Man” poster commemoration in Wicker Park at Wood Street and Milwaukee Avenue mounted on the Blue Line commuter train.

September 27, 2020


I couldn’t help but identify with a hummingbird caught in a screened porch frantically flying for hours high above the door; desperately seeking a way out, resting momentarily on a butterfly mobile. A light and flowers left just outside the door lured it to freedom in the darkness of the night.

October 10, 2020

Black and white American flag with blue stripe, Michigan farmland.

 

November 11, 2020

Chicago, South Loop, Wabash Avenue

November 18, 2020
Near the intersection of Grand Avenue and Ogden Avenue, Chicago.

 

June 17, 2021

Southwestern Michigan

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