Lightspeed recently republished a classic story by Carolyn Ives Gilman , “ Frost Painting , ” about a mysterious art colony in Montana that the locals say is live by stranger — or maybe humans who have become exotic . It ’s also the tragic , wistful story of an art critic who fall in love with an artist whose greatest study are design to disappear .
Here ’s an excerpt from the story , claim from a passage that enclose us to the foreign art settlement whose lure has tear aside the cosy romance between art critic Galena and her artist girlfriend Thea :
The reports from Montana had fascinated Thea from the start . There were many versions from the first . Remote Montana community aim over by alien . Demonic possession in Montana wasteland . Mystery Montana disease get scientists . Galena scoffed at it all .
After anthropologist at the University of Montana began to investigate , the explanations still metamorphosed to suit every paranoia . It was a type of mass craze . It was a scandalous casing of environmental taint . It was genic inbreeding . It was a unavowed regime experiment . One debunking journalist conclude that the “ victims ” were in fact member of a harmless New Age spiritual community who were being stigmatize by order as “ ominous ” for their nonconformity .
The account of the victims themselves never alter . The Dirigo , they say , were enabling them to create art of a case never before imagined .
It was the artistic creation that pore Thea ’s attending . As pictures last filter out , Thea corrupt all the cartridge holder and centre over them . “ Just recollect , ” she said , “ I could work in substantial twist , real lightning , if I had their aspiration . ”
“ If you had their inspiration , you ’d be in a loony bin , ” Galena read .
But it did seem as if Thea ’s creative thinking was lagging that outflow . Her studio apartment was cluttered with unfinished work ; it was over a year since she had retain one of her famed show that pull crew to see the self‑destroying fine art . As her comfort increase it seemed her parkway blow over . Galena worried that her own happiness was envenom the well from which it spring .
One forenoon when Galena , ready to leave for work , lean over the layer to kiss her partner adios , Thea looked up out of the rumpled bedclothes and said , “ I ’m going to Montana . ” Galena laugh , brushed the scatter haircloth out of Thea ’s face , and said , “ Ride ’em , cowboy . ”
When she got home that evening , Thea ’s suitcase and knapsack were wait by the threshold . The truth smashed all the elaborate social organization of Galena ’s security . Contentment had come to her so late , so circumstantially , that she had never thought it , too , could be perishable . She followed Thea around the house , need questions in a articulation like a lost tiddler .
“ How can I get in touch with you ? ”
“ What are you going to do there ? ”
“ How long will you be gone ? ”
“ Why are you doing this ? ”
“ When will you know ? ”
“ What about me ? ”
To which Thea could only resolve again and again , “ I do n’t recognise . ”
And that was all Galena had ever gotten out of her . She accept to drop Thea off at the airport , but would n’t go in with her , and they did n’t part with a osculation , or even a hug .
Read the whole storyat Lightspeed .
Top photo is of Robert Smithson ’s “ Spiral Jetty ”
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