One year ago, I wrote a straggling trail of words – a poem, perhaps – attempting to make sense of what was happening at the U.S. capitol. I was deeply frightened: by the swarming, feverish hordes seen on video, by the lack of precedent for such an event, by the possible outcomes. As I wrote stumblingly – on the floor of the living room, a live broadcast of what was happening playing in the background – other fears were lurking in my mind and bleeding out onto the page. The accelerating destruction – both vast and minute – of the natural world, which we are not doing enough to curb. The increasingly volatile and angry divide between political parties and people. The COVID-19 pandemic, with a horrifyingly high worldwide death toll …
Today, it’s a new year, but none of those things – those crises – have gone away. What am I, what are we supposed to do with that? I don’t know, and sometimes I want to wash my hands of it all, but, no. No, I simply cannot help but see that we are in this mess – these many messes – because we are all, together, human, for better and for worse. So, I give the following words as a rage, a rant, but also an honest-to-goodness prayer that we can knock it off and be there for each other. We can, I know we can. Now is as good a time as any to start trying.
~ Bee, January 6, 2022
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Each of the Silverfists take turns sharing their thoughts about illustration found in graphic novels, games, album art, and more...