When the AIDS epidemic began I was working in the medical field. I migrated from the Emergency Room to a wholistic clinic on the West coast where indeed, those ravages were much more evident and the procedures and requirements of work increasingly stringent.
One of those ideas batted around which stayed with me over the years was the notion that the epidemic had struck down a disproportionately large number from the arts community. In LA this was much more of a tragedy because a lot of persons living there worked in the arts ... as well as frequenting bath houses and engaging in anonymous unprotected sex.
Thus began the impetus of Day Without Art in 1989 under the auspices of one Robert Atkins who was a writer and art critic as well as three curators named Gary Garrels, Thomas Sokolowski, and William Olander. It is observed each December 1 which appropriately coincides with World AIDS Day.
The day is one of remembrance and mourning with closed places of business, dimmed lights, shrouded works of art and posters about AIDS, screening of documentary films, and memorials to those lost from 'the plague'.
I used to joke and laugh about the AIDS epidemic. Then I found myself thrust within it at witnessed it's victims first hand. It is less a humorous idea these days and more a sad notion in my mind.
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