AUSTIN GILL
On March 17th, 2020, I left New York City to come quarantine at my parent’s house in Oak Park, California, where I grew up. I spent several months there, from March to July, in what I thought to be ‘quarantine’. It wasn’t until I left California that I realized I had a completely unique experience to that of my friends abroad. The term ‘Lockdown’ wasn’t regularly used among my family and friends as it was used here in England. Instead, we had the term ‘Coronacation’, an excuse for a vacation brought on by the Coronavirus.
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In my hometown, the county lines of Ventura County and Los Angeles County run right through the center, so when the tidal wave of shutdowns spread across the cities, it drew a hard line and stopped in Oak Park, CA. Most everything in LA county had shut down; bars, restaurants, hair dressers, while Ventura County remained open, including beaches. The absurdity of the situation began to sink in when we realized that not even the news had answers on what to do. There was no official ‘lockdown’, therefore, no guidance on what was and what wasn’t allowed.
I spent my months in ‘quarantine’ exploring the abandoned cities, travelling around southern California, attending parties, camping, visiting friends, and going to bars and restaurants. The only difference I felt was the mask policy, and even that was not enforced. The images I took were a document of my time, a scrapbook of my life, unknowingly illustrating the differences in lockdowns around the globe.