It’s not, of course, but it feels that way. Suddenly, drawing amateurish pictures and writing about things that don’t exist seems like a naive use of one’s time in the face of potential unemployment and pending economic collapse. Furthermore, the audio company that employs me has been hit hard by the stall in global trade. Time no longer has any meaning, and a day spent staring at Animal Crossing seemingly bears no penalty. The problem, as anyone unfortunate enough to lose their job or face an uncertain future will testify, is that I now have all the time in the world but no sense of urgency or security, two things I’ve always felt essential to the creative process. Update my portfolio and social media imagery. Finally, I’d have time to finish my second novel! Work on making my webcomic project live! Build that new website. Theoretically, furlough is everything I could possibly want. I’ve struggled to concentrate or create ever since. However, the moment my boss announced that I’d need to go on furlough (government subsidy that constitutes 80% of your salary), something in me sank. In fact, I was all for working in my pyjamas and having jacket potatoes for lunch.

Consequently, when social distancing became a concern and the UK went into lockdown, the coronavirus didn’t impact my day job or life much for the first fortnight.

I run the website, graphic design and branding for an audio company, a job that doesn’t present much in the way of deadlines and can be quite easily relocated to my home study. Characteristically, this is not how things have played out. This is how my girlfriend put the coronavirus lockdown into perspective just a few days ago. “Imagine if before this virus someone offered you the opportunity to spend the next month working full-time on your own projects for a 20% pay cut. This week I struggle to stay creative in an endless lockdown loop, read Hubert Selby Jr’s The Room, play Resident Evil 3 and look at two great new comics: Rosemary Valero-O’Connell’s Don’t Go Without Me and sci-fi series Genu.

Genu by Tommaso Todesca