The days are growing colder and I’m less inclined to be sociable, to be out among the masses – the world teeming with so many souls all running along their own strings. I take comfort in the furrowed brows of the skies this time of year. The gray clouds, the cool wind, the falling leaves from trees giving up their colorful foliage with no hesitation, so opposite from what we humans oft do with our own ‘foliage’.
It’s at times like this that I tend to delve deeper into the colder side of art and images – pictures and paintings depicting Winter and Autumn scenes seem to soothe my eyes and meld easily with my own ideas and thoughts and feelings. I wouldn’t say this is all that surprising really as I’m sure there are many out there who tap into these streams of art readily this time of year as art allows us to express what we, at times, can’t seem to grasp on our own.
There are so many to pick from when surveying a buffet of ‘cold’ images within art – although my eye does stray more towards the darker side, and I often find my choices lean towards photography in these aspects. I tend to want reality streaming with my Winter, like a splash of ice cold water to the face, waking up my senses and allowing me to see in colors of black and blue and white and gray. I’ve noticed, as well, that I tend to flock closely to pictures depicting frozen or at least partially frozen water (though, to be honest, water is an element I hold dearly to my soul).

One of the most epic pieces I think to study in this type of vein is icebergs – cold, huge, destructive and yet most encumbered and passive in movement when loosed at sea, with so much laying beneath the surface – so much more hidden than what can often be seen by our eyes. Perhaps that is where the most deeply meaningful understanding comes for me, the idea that there is so much beneath the surface in nature and in us – humanity, humans, individuals, souls. I think the cold frames this idea perfectly for me, freezing in the mind the notion that we are so much more than what first impressions give others, and that – if time can be taken for a defrosting – we can let down our icy exterior and show what we hold, be it fault or be it strength.
Whatever the case may be, these images of frozen wonder touch my mind and allow me to experience this change of season in a way that pushes me to accept the cold with open arms – knowing that beneath the ice and snow lay an earth simply in slumber until the sun comes closely to kiss the land again, allowing the cycle we call life to move forward, as it ever does. I stare into these expressions of cold with a heart that, oddly, warms with the passion to seek out more, know more, see more of everything around me – even if it is from my computer screen.
So bring on the cold, the ice, the wind sweeping the leaves from the forests around us and singing a lullaby to the world while we await a new year. Let the snow fall and cover our tongues as we ‘taste’ the sky, while our breath chases us in the frosted air, following our voices and our laughter, or our cries and tears. Let it bring us closer together in our hunt for warmth and connection, and show us that we don’t have to be afraid to ‘break the ice’.