When the Heat Goes Out

Sub-zero temperatures have a way of reminding you of the marvel of nature. Stopping and truly taking the time to observe nature often can do this to a person. And, feeling skin freeze, the shock of such cold air in one’s lungs, and the eerie quality of the sound of cold as a ritual visitor to Minnesota, is difficult to describe fully. Words just can’t quite capture the body’s visceral response to such cold. Growing up in New Mexico, there were cold times. Snow occasionally fell in Albuquerque to the delight of children whose parents had sleds, and for the resourceful who turned paved roads into sliding hills with butts and knees on cardboard boxes and trash can lids. Having not experienced such brutal cold, even living in Kansas for four years, I had no words to truly describe the depths of cold in the more northern latitudes. These differences in environment and acclimation to weather patterns make for wonderfully delicious “warm” visits back to New Mexico for winter holidays because temperatures in the fifties feel glorious to Minnesota residents slogging through the teens and twenties of December. Always so fun to see people in hats, mittens, and scarves and their thickest coats in New Mexico where there’s not even snow on the ground. And knowing the reality of the cold January and February temperatures to which we will return, joking about the New Mexican attitudes about the cold really help provide the gift of perspective.

We were all gifted that perspective opportunity recently when Texas and other parts of the US South froze over a couple of weeks ago. Northerners on Twitter took to making fun of those in Texas who were complaining about temperatures below freezing. While the arctic blast had us in the “feels like temps” of negative fifty degrees, staring down twenty eight degrees above freezing felt like not much to complain about, even while acknowledging those Texas temps were very unseasonable and unusual. But, as we all came to learn as that climate disaster ripped across Texas crushing (their isolated) electric grids and wiping out access to running water, we also learned that Texas homes are not insulated, pipes froze because of power loss and people were dying from cold in their homes. Hermanita who lives in Houston was updating our sisters snapchat group with her status when she had power, and all we could do was offer moral support as she and her fiancé changed electricity providers, rode out the blackouts, and collected pool water to flush their toilet. The lack of critical infrastructure collided with Texans’ lack of winter coats rated to negative degree temps, whose hats, mittens, and gloves are likely more for the transitionary period of coming out of a cool night but headed toward warm temperatures with the sun.

While our homes are made to withstand the cold, Vaimo and I experienced a stressful early fall when the heater wouldn’t kick on. Clearly, not the same level of crises as was shared with this most recent arctic blast, but a matter to be attended to nonetheless. It was a crisis in the sense that there was a deadline for when it would become a bigger crisis as temperatures continued to drop. In the utility room of our home, the previous owners had left a taped up note with a number for what seemed likely to be someone to call. A first name and a ten digit number with the handwritten note “furnace” had us reaching for our cell phones to connect with the human on the other end of the line. It turns out, he had installed the furnaces for the previous owners and began zipping open the covers to the main furnace that pushes heat through the vents. The fan wasn’t coming on, thus air wasn’t moving because it was blocked up. By what? He didn’t know until he could take the fan out. And then in quick fashion he pulled out some dried leaves, sticks and three dead birds. Apparently, this isn’t that rare of a scenario he shared, birds or rodents will crawl into a vent that isn’t covered and work their way to a warmer place. These three sparrows tunneled in and then didn’t (couldn’t?) get back out. The birds were cleared, the furnace back in running order. 

A few weeks ago, before the US South froze, when we were in the deep freeze of the north, our floor heat went out. When the furnace repairman visited he had also worked on a separate boiler that heats water piped into the rooms of the downstairs of our home under the floor. Apparently some gauges were broken and he’d worked to replace the parts for us. In the deep cold that heater went out, which made for chilly studio working days for me and a frozen water pipe out in the garage. Having the resources, skills and experience of a life-long Minnesotan in the house we warmed the pipe and prevented a gushing pipe burst, but it was not without stress. We likely have a replacement situation ahead of us, but that is for future KCF to deal with; we’re out of the deep cold for now after calling Vaimo’s sister and husband who helped walk us through getting some water flowing back into the boiler. But this is my crisis. I'm also worried about people in Jackson, Mississippi who still don't have water. When the heat goes out, I think about the fragile ecosystems we create and how humans need shelter, food, and water to survive and thrive. I also think about how different our society would be if structured around the coldest of us, to ensure that we were all warmed. May we all have access to the warmth (and water) we need, as we look forward to the higher temperatures of spring. 

What I’m Reading

Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel, by Julian K. Jarboe

Jarboe’s collection of short stories that feel like they could be episode inspirations for a queerer Black Mirror melding climate disaster, technological surveillance and capitalism as themes for foretelling a future of where we are heading or may already be. I appreciate Jarboe’s creative license in imagining this world with queer and gender diverse peoples (mostly) free from the morality frame of sinners vs. “good” people. Fantastical at times, horrific at others, the creativity in imagination bursts through each story, encouraging readers to revisit them over and again as new insights continue to unfold about our current condition upon further contemplation.

What I’m Watching

Search Party (Streaming on HBO) There are so many shows out there and Hermanita kept encouraging me to watch this show so I finally gave in a couple of weeks ago. In the spirit of not spoiling this very wild, twisty, and turny show let me just say the gift of the show is the my stery of it all. The series centers on a privileged millennial friend group who are living the US-American mid-twenties struggle through their post-college years in the greatest city in the world. Of course, their second decade struggle is riddled with complications of a missing person that unfolds a series of choices the protagonist Alia Shawkat makes over the course of four seasons of the show. Ultimately this show raises questions of good and evil and the human condition in a world in which individualistic tendencies and celebrity worship abound. Sometimes described as a comedy I would say it's much more dramedy with very dark comedic elements. Not a laugh-out-loud show, but one that is comical in the ridiculousness of these four characters and the lives of others who are impacted by their actions. 

Artist Offerings

• Check out this timely and important review of the HBO film out Black Art: In the Absence of Light 
• Explore the incredible storytelling work of Shirin Neshat whose new work Land of Dreams explores the US/Mexico borderlands and their linkages to Iran.
• I met with Anika Fajardo, a Twin Cities-based writer this week for a consult on updating my website and am excited to read her memoir.
• As part of the previous conversation Anika introduced me to the work of Eric J. Garcia whose work brings a critical Chicano edge across mural, public arts, painting, drawing, prints and sculpture - I love a multidisciplinary artist!

Creative Ritual

It’s always fun to look back since the last newsletter, to see what I’ve accomplished, and this month the span between the 15th and the last day of the month has been so short! I logged a lot of studio time which resulted in a lot of Tiny Tequila paintings and some other fun exploration work of other still-life subjects. Studio time also helped me breakthrough to new obsessions. I’m now running with a deep dive on the history of oil cloth fabrics, possibly informing a new body of work. I conducted my first interview and photo session with a participant for my Otter Tail County Story Mapping project, and presented on the work so far on that grant to some folks through the Otter Tail County Historical Society. I submitted a one-minute artist talk (you can see it on the Kaddatz Facebook and IG) about my print Femme Legacy up for a couple more weeks at the Kaddatz Gallery. I applied for a writing gig and submitted my paintings to a couple of exhibitions/prizes. I am slogging through most days, trying to find the joys in what is a new level of pandemic fatigue, and yet keeping on.

Questions to Ponder

What warms you these days?
How are you creating and cultivating warmth in your life? 
In what ways do you protect yourself from cold? 
How are you working to shield others from the cold? 

Thanks for journeying with me. I hope, as always, that you take what you need and leave the rest for someone else, or for another time. 

-KCF

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