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10. Humanity’s future is among the stars. Art Creating with Principles Tuisku "Snow" Curtis-Kolu

Soar

Art and Text by Tuisku “Snow” Curtis-Kolu

With the wilful power of an asteroid, she soars through space and time. Humanity is nothing without its sense for madness and excitement in looking to an ambiguous future. We look to the stars – in our futures, creative pursuits, and collective endeavors.

Thank you to the wild women who inspired this – I hope you’re soaring as we speak. 

Soar (pastels on paper, Scotland 2021)

Artist, Master of Law, Familiar Stranger. Snow believes couches are the beds of the busy and the ground is a welcoming cushion. She sometimes struggles to explain what she’s seeing or thinking, so she creates. Snow has a love for oil painting, but flirts with a wide variety of mediums. 

“I connect through colour – I helps me feel present. I hope it helps you to feel something unexpected.”

2022 Art Contributing Creators Contributing Writers Pandemic Prose

Frightened Fred

Written by Tim Hildebrandt 

Fred was a simple man. For him, the world was a scary place. His wife, Wanda, worried all the time and cried herself to sleep every night. They lived in a rental in a small town and Fred worked maintenance for the park department. During long winters, he had to work through the night, driving the snowplow and keeping the streets free of snow and ice. As bad as it seemed, their life was tolerable until the pandemic came to town. The pandemic was brutal. People fell like leaves in the fall. News of countless deaths followed the days of the months.

Attempting to slow the spread of the disease, the mayor mandated face masks. But it didn’t help because over time the virus reached everyone. Many citizens fell ill from fear alone, and Fred grew frightened as the toll mounted. He worried that the pain in his stomach meant he had the virus. Hospitals were so crowded with the sick and dying that they closed their doors to the public. Moving to another town wasn’t an option, they didn’t have any savings and it was tough to pay the rent. Besides, they learned from the news that the disease had spread worldwide, and no country on earth was safe. Depression became so oppressive he built a bunker in his basement. Reinforcing the door and collecting everything from toilet paper to guns. Every night after work, TV news droned in the background, adding to his trepidation. At first, alcohol dulled the fear, but whiskey was outside of his budget. 

One night, he watched a show discussing treatments for schizophrenia. Peace and calm came to those who went through the operation. At the library, he studied the procedure in fine detail. All he needed was a long, sterilized needle. His first experiment would be on the dog, an excitable little thing, constantly underfoot and yapping at every noise. Fred parted the fuzzy hair on its little head and completed the process without a whimper. Immediately, the dog became docile and lay on the floor all day. It was hard to tell if it was dead or alive. Flush with success, Fred proposed the idea to his wife. Wanda was a worrier, so a splash of whiskey helped. Then, after positioning the sterilized tip under her eyebrow, Fred closed his own eyes and eased it upward a good eight inches. The result was positive: like the little dog; she stopped worrying and sat in the chair all day and watched soap operas.

Fred stood looking at himself in the mirror, planning his own procedure. Wincing as the point touched the flesh above his eye, he figured another shot of Wanda’s whiskey will keep him sober enough to control the angle. Fred gritted his teeth and inserted the thin rod of stainless steel. Sharp pain vanished, replaced by mild euphoria, his thoughts blurred, but he felt the operation had been a success. His feet were unsteady as walked into the bathroom to look in the mirror. Blood ran down from the metal rod sticking in his head. But a smile greeted him that he hadn’t seen in years.

A man looks into the mirror with a rod sticking out of his eye socket and blood running from the wound.
Frightened Fred by Tim Hildebrandred

Tim Hildebrandt is a writer in metro Indianapolis, Indiana. His short stories have appeared in print and online publications such as Misery Tourism, The Boston Literary Magazine, Bending Genres, and Literally Stories. He also paints in oils and shows in select exhibits. Current projects include assembling an anthology of short stories. You can check out his work at: https://www.instagram.com/ax_beckett.

2021 Art Pandemic Tuisku "Snow" Curtis-Kolu

A Single Drop

Art and Text by Tuisku “Snow” Curtis-Kolu

The environmental movement is associated with the colour green – often rightly so. However, water is our life blood. It is the life blood of the food that we eat, the plants that keep us breathing, and the dominant building block of our very own bodies. Water carries the weight of the Earth’s entire living history. A single drop is worthy of praise.

Nature Series 4: A Single Drop (colored pencils on paper – Scotland, 2020)

Artist, Master of Law, Familiar Stranger. Snow believes couches are the beds of the busy and the ground is a welcoming cushion. She sometimes struggles to explain what she’s seeing or thinking, so she creates. Snow has a love for oil painting, but flirts with a wide variety of mediums. 

“I connect through colour – I helps me feel present. I hope it helps you to feel something unexpected.”

2021 Art Pandemic Tuisku "Snow" Curtis-Kolu

Leafy Veins

Art and Text by Tuisku “Snow” Curtis-Kolu

Up close leaves are strange wee things, aren’t they? Their extreme colours, their nutrient carrying veins – every point connected and separated. Nature makes patterns that the strengths of human innovation may never quite master without a fuller appreciation and reflection on the nuances of our world. 

Nature Series 3: Leafy Veins (acrylic paint on paper – Scotland, 2020)

Artist, Master of Law, Familiar Stranger. Snow believes couches are the beds of the busy and the ground is a welcoming cushion. She sometimes struggles to explain what she’s seeing or thinking, so she creates. Snow has a love for oil painting, but flirts with a wide variety of mediums. 

“I connect through colour – I helps me feel present. I hope it helps you to feel something unexpected.”

2021 Art Pandemic Tuisku "Snow" Curtis-Kolu

Sunset in the Hills

Art and Text by Tuisku “Snow” Curtis-Kolu

I watched the sun paint the hills, every moment in its descent brought forward new strokes of colour, new crooks and shapes. The air was fresh with candour and the slight wind accentuated the silence. Shadows provided new hiding spots in the absence of trees. The calm of sunset obstructs your mind from the cold night. 

Nature Series 2: Sunset in the Hills (oil pastels on paper- Scotland 2020)

Artist, Master of Law, Familiar Stranger. Snow believes couches are the beds of the busy and the ground is a welcoming cushion. She sometimes struggles to explain what she’s seeing or thinking, so she creates. Snow has a love for oil painting, but flirts with a wide variety of mediums. 

“I connect through colour – I helps me feel present. I hope it helps you to feel something unexpected.”