JONATHAN ALFARO






Creamed Blush, 2020-2022

I stand in front of the mirror applying lotions and creams onto my skin, working them in with the tips of my fingers then whole hands; I feel their warmth transfer to my skin. I see the dark circles that have grown darker as I've slept less and less over the past few years—I focus more tenderness there. Pressing creamed blush into my cheeks to appear freshly in from brisk air I think to myself how nice it is to be in a routine, to feel useful and needed.

Today I'm going to work, I'll be walking through downtown closer to people than I should be. Within a few months this distance will shrink further down to 6 feet and eventually nothing. Up Keefer Street right across from the soccer field and to the gate at work. Door locked separated from the outside I turn on music and set the store just as it would be on a regular day.

Just a few weeks later I'd loose my routine. Days began to collapse on themselves and expand equally as much. An hour is a second, a day, a week, a month. Still now, over two years later time plays a satirical role in my life.