29 MAY 2020 My name is Bruno Valasse. I was born in Mexico and I recently moved from London to Bra, a small city in Northern Italy. I’ve been designing and illustrating books, covers, posters and magazines for the past 8 years, either for fun or commissions. I am fond of images that ignite curiosity and have a sense of humour, so that is what I aim to make when creating stuff.

I have been working from home for a few years now, so that did not change much, although a few clients and friends did come to me for advice on how to make things work from their own places without going crazy—not sure I haven’t gone crazy myself, but happy to help! Not being able to go out at all when Italy went into full lockdown definitely made me anxious, as days started to bleed into the next without any possibility to physically disconnect from my working space. And I am not even halfway through learning the local language, so even minimal interaction at the supermarket was a big deal.

I did notice two different streams of projects coming my way ever since quarantine: the cultural ones were slowed down and people managing those are still extremely empathetic; the highly commercial clients are shortening timelines—no free time needed in confinement, right?—and asking for discounts—can’t go shopping or to the restaurant, so…

In both cases, I was lucky enough for most of my projects to be kept on track for the first 6 weeks, when everyone was trying to finally do that project they had been delaying for ages and now had time to do or started learning some new skill. Everyone seemed to have way more free time than me to make free, creative stuff. It did not help with the anxiety, but it definitely made me stop delaying an application to a Children Books MA!

Since I started working remotely 4 years ago, I almost stopped interacting with friends through social media because I would rather meet them personally during evenings or weekends. I did need that physical presence to cope with how lonely a freelancer can get sometimes.

The pandemic made me realize that I had not kept in touch with a lot of those people who were far away; I started having individual calls with some of them, sending messages more often, too. I like to believe that we were put on edge as it is during critical times that we see our mistakes. Paradoxically, the pandemic brought us closer together. I have heard people opening themselves up like I had never before. Even clients with whom I only have a professional relationship have shown how much they needed someone to talk to, and that made me do the same. It made me feel less powerless.

On a weekly basis, I’ve always enjoyed days to be extremely different, but let’s be honest, most of us work in front of a computer for quite a few hours every day. Being physically away makes us spend more time in front of screens, which I feel is a bad replacement for the social thing. I try to spend more time looking through the window, having conversations with a single person and not multitasking while doing so.

And I may be stating the obvious, but since lots of people—myself included—started to bake and cook lots of highly addictive goods, some daily exercise may be in order! I would definitely recommend cycling long distances.

One last thing that we did was ask people running the small businesses that we love if we could help and how. It’s incredible how open and resilient they can be, and it is not all about money!

I did admire people in Milan going out on balconies to cheer healthcare workers, play music, dance and share some time with neighbours they might not have met before. It made me look through the window more often and wave to people; say hi to people on the way to the supermarket, as smiles have been censored by masks.

I drew some of the people who wave back, share their music or a drink from one balcony to another. I shared those illustrations with friends in countries that had not gone into lockdown yet. I got all kinds of positive responses, from cheering-up messages to thankful ones, but also I got lots of people asking if it was all true—if Italy had become a dystopian no-man’s land.

I was looking forward to going out for a cycle ride—I just did it, since lockdown restrictions were reduced a couple of weeks ago. I got to see even more of those hand-drawn signs kids made here, and they were right: “Tutto andrà bene,” everything is going to be alright.

I have made a selection of fine art prints I will be releasing in the next few days, which I will launch on Instagram.