It’s without question that we are all surviving a difficult moment in history right now. Historically, it is during times like these that art and creative release become more important than ever before. There is so much to say in turbulent moments like these, and there’s so much importance in saying what needs to be
I graduated from the ceramics studio at KSA in December 2019, and having no plans for after that, crashed hard. I was starting to pick myself up a bit when lockdown went into effect in BC. Markets to sell my pottery at were cancelled. I was already unemployed. Job hunting was redundant. Instagram became a
I spent the first two months of quarantine in Nelson (an ideal place to be during a pandemic) and then decided to visit my family in Vancouver. My intention was to stay isolated at my parents’ house, but that changed when I watched the news on May 25. I wrote this poem immediately after attending
In addition to running like my life depends on it, I have found writing, as well as singing, dancing, colouring, gardening, and other creative pursuits, to be what I turn to first during difficult times. Both creating and consuming art has been a huge part of my Covid-19 experience, in part because I suddenly have
As the world slowly “comes to life” once again, I want to acknowledge the collective global transformation we have all just experienced—an experience unlike anything we could have ever imagined, a world almost stranger than the fiction that we write. I strongly believe that it is the misfits of the world, the artists, the poets,
One idea that’s fascinated me during COVID is the recurring feeling of reaction that I’ve seen rumbling through all spheres of life. I’ve been witness to how our collective reactions and subsequent actions can run together just as easily as they can run against each other (in some cases towards solidarity and union, support and
Worry. Don’t write. Pace. Try to write. Obsessively scroll through COVID updates. Avoid writing. Adopt a sourdough starter and name her “Lily”. Make bread. Write a few uninspired lines. Think of mortality. Update my will. Download calming music. Start to write in spurts. Wallow in writer’s block with Corona (the good memories kind) and lime
Selkirk College’s Creative Writing and Digital Arts students are proud to present this year’s print edition of the Black Bear Review. Featuring 14 writers and 15 visual artists, this magazine is a true testament to the hard work, talent, and ambition of everyone involved. Due to COVID-19 the magazines are not currently being sold in
Part One: Arrival Birdy trailed a teabag through lukewarm water. Her granddaughter Missy, recently back from nursing school, held up a large cell phone: on it, a skeleton of a human, its joints lit up like jellyfish. “Osteoarthritis,” Missy said solemnly. “Damage in the place where two bones come together.” Birdy looked out the window
The judge Jam smeared and restless, the judge banged his gavel. “Order! Order in the court!” The agitated spectators filling the pews on either side of the aisle fell quiet. A few more bangs of the gavel because the judge liked the sharp noise. Time to bring out the accused. The courtroom was brilliant white.
Shadows of deep crimson enveloped the landscape, like a blanket of thin fog. All was mostly visible, but the only thing that one could truly see was the neon and faint aura of a single lonely building. A sign flickered just off of the russet-coloured road on which he stood, which simply read “DINER” in
Outside my window the wind is murmuring. The diaphanous curtain floats in the breeze. The curtain is ethereal in its movements Accompanied by the dulcet tones of a violin The sweet fragrance of pancakes drifts through the air I burrow deeper into my bed, not yet ready to start the day About The
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