conversations

—So, how’s everything going in general?

Everything is upside down, Eric. but I am always hopeful! Things have been unfortunate for a while, but at some point, in the middle of the pandemic, I looked at my husband, grabbed him by the shoulders, gave him a good shake, and said, “We’re gonna change things!” So we did!

During most of shelter-in-place, we were stuck in the tiniest studio apartment in San Francisco, and it really amplified my anxieties. There was a couple of months I didn’t even step foot outdoors and was smoked out, quite literally, by a fire in our apartment building. The entire building was evacuated at 1 am, during a pandemic. Running down four flights of smoke-filled hallways was enough to trigger my fire trauma from childhood. It was the most panic attacks I’ve had in one night. I found myself wearing two masks and pajamas out in the cold street, surrounded by dozens of non-mask wearing, open-mouth-coughing, chain-smoking, smoke-puffing, loogie-spitting neighbors. I think this is what you’d call a catalyst moment.

A month after that incident, we moved to the East Bay, bought a used car, and now paying less for rent with three times more space than our SF place. (For 15 years, we’ve only lived in a studio apartment right up to this moment.) I know it’s a privilege to be able to move during a global pandemic, but, man, I am so glad we did it. I know the world is still a shitty place out there, but feeling safer, having more room, and being closer to nature has been a huge investment on my mental health.

—Judging from your Instagram feed, you're still keeping busy with your art. How's that been sustaining you (or not sustaining you) since COVID started? How has your creative process and routine changed (if at all)?

As you know I’m a book designer by day, and I run my illustration practice at night and weekends. That hasn’t changed during the pandemic at all, if anything, I’m busier! Freelance work has been steady and for that, I am grateful.

I’ve always considered myself lucky to have my art practice to run to. It has sustained me in so many ways. Financially, I still can’t believe it puts money on the table and that I am able to help out my parents with what I make from my art.

I feel like my creative process and my overall approach to making art evolved and matured during the pandemic. I am a huge believer in art as therapy and I’m happy to run to it during times like this. We’re faced with so many reminders of our mortality, deaths, suffering, hatred, and violence, that the curative and transformative properties of art making is amplified. I’m learning during this time that the process of creating is healing and it is just as important as the art being created. I can hear the cheese oozing out of that phrase, but I believe it.

—What are you missing most right now, cultural or otherwise? What's keeping you happy?

Here’s a bullet list of all the things I am missing right now:

• Going to museums

• Going to concerts (I know it’s killing you too, Eric!)

• Shopping in actual bookstores

• Talking to strangers (I have years’ worth of audio recordings of my conversations with random strangers)

• Going to the movies

• Riding the bus

• Missing the Chronicle Books office 

What’s keeping me happy:

• My husband and cats 

• Drawing

• Nature trips

• Cooking

• Buying more books

• Criterion Channel

• Obsessed with my TV shows: Raised by Wolves, What We Do in the Shadows, Ghosts, Bob’s Burgers.

—What are you and Michael Morris planning for Christmas this year? 

We missed the boat on Halloween, but he wants to dress me up as Brown Christmas Puddin’ this holiday season. You know he’s sewing up a storm for his new Christmas costume! 

—How are the cats? 

Fat, happy, and enjoying the sun!

—You've also been using your art and social media to promote long overdue reforms brought on by George Floyd’s death. And as an immigrant and person of color, all of this is very personal for you. How have recent events changed the way you think about your art? Or just your life in general?

I think it should be personal for everyone. It was really difficult to accept that this is still the reality we live in, that our Black brothers and sisters still have to ask to be treated with basic human decency out in the streets, in the justice system, in schools, in offices. It crushes me when I hear people don’t believe that systemic racism exists. There’s just so much upheaval that needs to be done and thinking about it can be overwhelming.

It is a good time for action, reflection, and for all of us to check our privileges. It was a good time to be reminded that inclusivity and representation matters. I remember one morning in June, I woke up thinking of all the white spaces I’ve navigated in, all the racism and discrimination I’ve experienced since I migrated to the U.S., I woke up and I wrote this bit and posted it on my Instagram:

Black and fellow POC artists and illustrators: We have been told all our lives to NOT pursue the creative field because there’s no money in it. We’ve heard it time and time again; there’s less opportunities for us in the arts and we believed it. In result, this has made our voices quieter, our bodies invisible and our stories told by others who are not living them.
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But I know you’re there. I found it so comforting and healing to go through everyone’s paintings and illustrations during this time. It has confirmed what I’ve known all along, we’ve been creating to survive. Our narratives are compelling and it’s time to share them.
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To my fellow designers and art directors, we should change the way we look for artists moving forward. Let’s dig deeper when hiring talent. Include Black and POC creatives in your rosters not only to fulfill a quota or to diversify your mood boards. Really look at our work and how we’ve developed our styles. They are a reflection of how we’ve been navigating your world. Make Black and POC narratives visible because it is your responsibility to reflect the world we all share.

I cried when I wrote it since it felt good writing a bit of truth that resonated to my core. 

More about Lydia and her recent Max. Occupancy exhibition.

You can see more of Lydia’s work at her website.