Cold Fury: Are We Radicalized Yet?

I did a rather lengthy post about how January is typically a month in which I just need the world to stop for a damn minute so I can catch my breath and get right with the new year.

What I didn't share in that post was how this January in particular has been rough due to watching a ramp up of a so-called "immigration crackdown" in Minnesota. Two legal observers killed by ICE in full view of the world, two other deaths in "detention centers" ruled to be homicides. Masked paramilitary squads abducting people from running vehicles in the middle of roads. Attacks on Venezuela and threatening Greenland with invasion. Horrible Epstein Files revelations.

And that's only what I can remember without inviting a good hour of internal screaming by trying to dig up more atrocities from merely the first 31 days of 2026.

Cold Fury started as a an exercise in a more neutral-toned color palette. But as the month of January progressed, it became a meditation on rage. I attended a show at the Steinfeld Warehouse at the beginning of January during Art Walk. One of the studios was hosting art by a group of trafficking and abuse survivors. The use of red in their work stood out and resonated with the rage I was feeling, and I knew red had to go into my piece. With each new horror out of Minneapolis, I felt the bands of black and silver stomping all over that rage, spreading it while trying to cover it up.

Big pools of red. Splatters of it. Looping arcs of it. Trapped and overshadowed by unyielding blacks and wobbly, mushy silvers. The red and black rectangles made the neutral background look more like icy streets, giving everything the feeling of fragility. Something is going to break, something is going to fall.

One of the fair attendees last month had stopped by my booth to thank me for using so much color. (It's one of the most consistent comments I hear at art fairs: colorful! vibrant! bold! I love sharing in an appreciation of color with those folks.) As I chatted with this person, we landed on Cold Fury and how it was different. I talked about how I had added the red in what was supposed to be a fully neutral palette attempt, how it connected with the rage I felt about what was happening in Minnesota and beyond, and she shared how much she'd been praying for Alex Pretti. It was a solemn moment of connection in an otherwise joyous celebration of color.

Cold Fury isn't enough, though. My anger at what is happening in my country remains fierce and vivid. I am working to channel it into action as frequently as I can. I write voting campaign postcards for Field Team 6 and Markers for Democracy. I use 5 Calls to call my elected officials about issues that matter to me. I'm still going through Naomi Kritzer's fantastic guide on ways to help specifically in Minnesota but also more broadly. I think I'll be diving into the world of Letters to the Editor now, largely targeting my current Republican Representative who barely won the district in 2024 and is trying to pretend he cares about health care subsidies after voting proudly to jettison them (among other ills).

The fury will continue, though, until justice is truly served.