"Rolling a Snowball" by Utagawa Kuniteru

On this winter's day

Pink children run, shout, and laugh

Barefoot in the snow.

"Snow in the Countryside" by Kamisaka Sekka

Crunch, crunch, the snow on the ground is up past his ankles and more is tumbling down from the sky in a steady swarm. He leans in to the wind using a narrow walking stick for support. The trail behind him sweeps up and pushes him forward, but toward what? All in front seems a gray chasm. To make this journey is to be consumed by the frozen moment, like an animal driven by instinct, with no memory of the past or thoughts of the future. In seeking cover from the elements, he becomes anonymous - a human being reduced to solid planes of black and white. We think we have choices, when truly we're at the mercy of forces greater than we can comprehend. And yet we struggle. We trudge on.

"View from Interstate 83" by Robert Patierno

Image posted with the permission of the artist. More of Robert Patierno's work can be found at his website. 

Wood and metal beams, wires, pointed roofs, and uneven shafts of light have sliced up what would otherwise be an inviting view of gently rolling, moonlit hills under a star-speckled sky. The electric pulse that powers the artificial light hums like the motor of our car. The street lamp's glow competes with that of the moon, though only the lamp confuses moths and other flying insects, luring them to their doom. Three birds on a wire, another three on a lamp are echoed by three crosses on a distant hill. A couple birds take flight as two missals soar. Nature is mirrored by death and destruction as if it has gazed into some sort of fun house mirror. Zooming by, I see all and remain unmoved. After all, I've become accustomed to executions and forgotten the beauty of stars.

"Winter in Aizu" by Kiyoshi Saito

It is a tremendously cold day. The sky is grey and overcast, so there will be no shining reprieve from the sun. The closest structure bulges like the bow of a ship stuck in a frozen sea. Bare, black tree branches wearing white stripes of snow curl and reach, then flop over, weary from exertion. Icicles line the roofs like rows of predatory teeth. And while the landscape is layered - mountains, buildings, trees, snow-covered ground - the people seem to almost live in a two dimensional world; a wide, flat man trudges across the scene while two stick-figures moving away slip into the cracks of their own silhouettes. Anything to get away from this cold, bleak, motionless scene.

"The Memory Inside Bone" by Joshua Norton

Image posted with the permission of the artist. Since I last wrote about one of Joshua Norton's works, he's completed a residency at the MN Center for Book Arts where he created some wonderfully creepy screenprint popout constructions. He's also featured in the newly published book Low Tech Print. Check out his work on his website here.

This cyclops eye is my gift to you. A memento of what we once shared. Do not cry for me, for my history is spread out like a coded tapestry lined with tentacle tusks and embroidered with layers of sediment. It got pretty complicated there toward the end, but when we boil it down, it gets pretty basic. Basic as primary colors. Basic as a handful of particles. Ooo, ouch, but the blood is still pouring out from where that spear struck, and I gotta go. The next Ice Age is on the horizon. Take my hide and keep warm.

"The Dancing Queen" by Seong Moy

There's a big, ol' toad
(ribbit, ribbit)
Sitting between the
Twirling grasshopper and
Dancing Queen with
Long, blonde hair, in a
Short, red dress, and
He's smiling.

"Warm and Green Horse" by Alisha Houtchens

Image posted with the permission of the artist. More of Alisha Houtchens's work can be viewed and purchased on her Etsy store. 

As it is freezing cold, I inch closer and closer to the fire to get warm. But my muscles tense as it crackles and spits. The flames form the face of a horse - a once wild beast that we have domesticated, dominated, put to our own use. Horses were the companions of history's greatest conquerors. Depictions of their muscular form can be found in every art museum. The Houyhnhnms, or "perfection of nature" from Gulliver's Travels take the form of these noble creatures. 

If I get too close in the wrong way to a horse, I'm liable to be kicked, just as I could be burned by this fire. If I get kicked, it will be my own fault, for I, unlike him, have made the decision to be here. 

A light in the darkness is always welcome.