I created SHROUDED in June of 2020 as a memorial to those lost to Covid-19. This video shows the progression of the surrounding vegetation that is slowly covering the sculpture. As of May, 2022, Over 6.26 million people have died worldwide. 1 million in the United States.
The plan is for the plants to, over time, envelope the sculpture, enrobing in in a natural shroud. This is what it looked like then.
Here is a picture from this afternoon. The plants have already begun their entwinement
Sadly, the death toll in the US has risen above 199,000+.
Sometimes it’s hard to be who you are meant to be.
Especially when your powers can get you killed.
Eighteen-year-old Tatiana is running from her past and her star-touched powers eight years after a meteor devastates earth’s population.
Her power to heal may be overshadowed by more destructive abilities. Fleeing the persecution of those like her, Tatiana seeks refuge in a small town she once visited. But this civil haven, in a world where society has broken down, is beginning to crumble.
Only by harnessing the very forces that haunt her can Tatiana save her friends…and herself.
A Hidden Past – A Deadly Secret
Gifted with the ability to wolf-talk, Kara has lived with the wolves since she lost her memories eight years ago. Now at sixteen, snippets of her past send her searching for answers.
But the warm welcome she receives in the human village hides more danger than life with the pack.
2020 dawned under the shadow of the Covid-19 pandemic. Seven months in and we are still not out of danger. While some businesses have begun to open, many have not. Several never will. The long-range repercussions of lost lives, lost jobs, and extended isolation have yet to be felt.
I started working on SHROUDED in late February.
The plaster core is painted with latex paint and four layer of marine polyurethane.
The next step was landscaping the installation site and putting in plants.
There are red and black tiles around the sculpture and ten pounds of glass stones.
Over time, the plants will envelope the sculpture, enrobing in in a natural shroud.
Lightening flashed across the sky, strangely overlaid across the blue, cloudless view. Half-formed figures and houses appeared along the riverbank. Children laughed as they splashed in the water. There was a village here once, full of life.
“Please. Not again.” The words barely made it past his tightening throat.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. He fell to his knees, trembling. The heavy sack he wore dug into his shoulder. But that wasn’t what caused the churning inside him. It was happening again, just as it had every day since the storm. Unable to stop it, he watched as thick, roiling clouds and an orange wave poured across the valley, obliterating the town.
Children screamed over the roar of the fire. Their anguished cries penetrated past the hands clamped over his ears. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, the image burned into his vision. Nor could he block the smell of burned flesh.
Tears streamed down his face, untouched by the surrounding inferno. Firestorm was his creation. His fault. And it was his order that deployed it. He was the one who turned the world into a blackened, ash filled landscape.
“I’m sorry. So sorry.”
No one offered forgiveness. There was no one left to hear the words. Still sobbing, he pulled a seed out of the sack and pressed it into the barren soil. One seed for every life lost. Doomed to relive the destruction he caused until life returned. A millennia of toil. That was his punishment.
Gifted with the ability to wolf-talk, Kara has lived with the wolves since she lost her memories eight years ago. Now at sixteen, snippets of her past send her searching for answers. But the warm welcome she receives in the human village hides more danger than life with the pack.
Eighteen-year-old Tatiana is running from her past and her star-touched powers. Her power to heal may be overshadowed by more destructive abilities. Fleeing the persecution of those like her, Tatiana seeks refuge in a small town she once visited. But this civil haven, in a world where society has broken down, is beginning to crumble. Will Tatiana flee or stay and fight for the new life she has built? Only by harnessing the very forces that haunt her can Tatiana save her friends and herself.
If I close my eyes I can see it as it was before that night; quaint little buildings with lit up signs, craft and antique shops filled with assorted treasures. I used to love walking up and down the street late at night after the rest of town went to bed. It was the only solitude I found back then in a town full of busybodies. If only I could turn back time and bask in their attention.
They said the river, fifty feet below Wood Town, was too far to be a flood problem. I guess they were right. It wasn’t the river that caused its destruction. Six inches of rain fell that Saturday evening just before dinner. A torrent of water rushed down the hills above town, sweeping everything with it. Cars and people were tossed like sand in the waves. Two hundred year old stonework ripped from foundations. Chunks of sidewalk joined the churning rubble as it raced to the river.
Now all that remains is darkness and debris. Everyone is gone, all of them, young and old. Crumbled bricks lay scattered amidst gutted out buildings that once held thriving businesses and homes.
I have plenty of solitude now as I complete my nightly walk. No one is here to pester me with questions or babble about the latest gossip. I wish they were. My feet feel heavy, like waterlogged wood, but they leave no marks in the silt filled street. The dead leave no prints.
“Congratulations, Mr. Baker. You’re officially cancer free. Welcome to the year 3015.”
I grabbed the doctor’s hand and pumped it up and down. Not bad for a recently thawed popsicle. My billion dollar investment to cheat death paid off. Now I’m healthy and far from my nagging ex-wife.
“Thanks doc. Check me out of here. I’m due for a double bacon cheeseburger and a walk on the beach.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Baker, but outside toxicity levels are inhospitable and the ingesting of animal products was outlawed years ago.”
“Aw, heck. Sounds like my ex’s heaven.”
“There’s also the matter of your bill,” said the doctor. “You’re going to have to work off the remainder as an indentured servant.”
“What?”
“Don’t be alarmed. Your basic needs will be met.”
“So I’m supposed to be some guy’s slave?”
“Only for fifty to sixty years.”
“That’s absurd. I’ll be dead by then.”
“Sorry, but you’re the property of New Life Incorporated until paid in full. The Long-Life serum will keep you young for many centuries. You should feel honored that the president herself requested you as her servant.”
“Well I won’t stand for it. I’m no one’s slave.”
The familiar clicking of high heels made the hair on my neck stand up. I spun around and stared at my ex-wife. She looked as young as the day I left. My heart pounded as she examined me through narrowed eyes. This was impossible.
“Well according to the law you belong to me.”
“Ever since the day I walked into that specialty shop, a dark fury has twisted in my gut, weaving threads of poison through my body. I’ve been gnawed to a papery shell. Stomach, lungs, liver, kidneys, heart; all have fallen to this festering termite. Now I’m a puzzle with missing pieces.”
I pause and glare as a nurse checks the machines I’m wired to. Her patronizing smile waves over me, but there’s no eye contact. They’re all like that, waiting for me to die already. It’s been months since I fell ill. My gaze returns to my ghostly guest as soon as she departs.
“See what I’ve become? A rag doll with no substance. Death rings, but runs when I answer its call like an auto-dialer. I’m tired of waiting, tired of all the well-wishers who hover with painted grins. Their pity is more torment than the evil inside me.
The ghostly figure tilts its head. “What are you saying, Barry?”
“I want to live.”
“You could give in to it.”
“And become a shade? Never.”
“There’s a price for what you ask.”
“There always is. I’ll pay it.”
Laughter rings out as a glowing hand touches my forehead. Heat rushes through my body. When my eyes clear I’m back in the shop. A young man reaches for a package. I move without hesitation and smack his hand away.
“That’s concentrated Carolina Reaper juice, you idiot! It’s stronger than a habanera pepper. It’ll destroy you.”
Papa?”
Davis looked at the child. Her pale face smiled as she lay in the hospital bed. Dark smudges surrounded her eyes, eyes bereft of lashes. Tubes and wires stretched from her to the bank of monitors that bleeped, dripped, and ticked. Each sound a symbol of what life had become. His baby girl, barely starting life only to have it cruelly yanked away.
Eyes clamped shut; he sucked air through a constricted throat. He couldn’t watch anymore; couldn’t bear any more pain. The doorway shimmered behind him. He’d turned away from it during the war and when his wife died. Living through life’s adversities was the best teacher, but what was there to learn from watching a death like this? One step through the portal and this experience would be left behind. He could escape the grief. But if he passed it by again would it return?
“Where’s that door go, Papa?”
His eyes sprang open. If she could see it her life was at a brink, teetering; waiting for her choice. It meant she was like him in more ways than he thought.
“It leads away, Ariel, around the pain. But it makes you forget who you were.”
She pursed her lips a moment, thinking. “I think I’d rather stay here.”
He stroked her skeletal hand. The taut, yellowed skin felt dry. So frail, so young. All he had left. He couldn’t leave her. Every second was worth the pain. Maybe this treatment would be the cure….
Devil’s tongue hung down, heat from the midday sun scorched the lookout rock. In the canyon below a small band of humans struggled through the twists and turns, heading straight for the Black Canyon pack’s den. The scent of dry death hung in the air. How could they not smell the spring only a few hundred yards away? Despite obvious need, the humans stumbled away from the only source of water for miles.
Humans were food to the Black Canyon leader, but Devil remembered his old human pack. Food had been plentiful, members full of love and kindness. They were gone, killed by the sky fire.
One of the human pups stumbled, then curled on the ground, whimpering. She was so like his little human. Devil reach the bottom of the canyon before he realized he had left his sentry post. The pack leader wouldn’t be happy.
Devil approached the humans cautiously, circling around until he stood between them and the spring. The scent of fear was strong, but they didn’t attack. One of the men moved toward him. Devil sprung back, toward the spring, then waited. Bit by bit he drew them closer to the spring, then sat several yards away as they drank their fill. He liked this pack. They felt right and the dried meat they tossed him was good.
Devil spun around as the Black Canyon leader approached. It was time to oust the real devil and return the Black Canyon pack to humans.
“I’m telling you, Eric, You don’t want this car. It’s jinxed. Every one of its thirteen owners’ was murdered. I looked it up.”
“Nonsense, Carl. She’s just a classic with an interesting history. Check her out. Hot and sexy. It’s like we were made for each other.”
***
Beth watched Eric hand the cash to the seller. Anticipation rippled from fender to fender. Oh how she detested his type. She’d make sure he got his comeuppance, just like the others. Already the plan was in motion.
Long ago she learned of her fiancé’s other wives and confronted him. He didn’t like that much. But crushing her body with the hood of that 1954 blue Pontiac before it even left the factory, didn’t get rid of her. Not even a shallow grave in the woods or a thorough car wash did the trick. Somehow she’d stayed curled around that engine. Her revenge came by way of the mail to all five women. They took care of him.
As for her, she had a knack for enchanting betrayers. The first to fall was that two timing reporter, Bill Keenan. Funny how his wife learned about his affair. Beth’s burning hate for infidelity always helped spot the next target. Sometimes the wife did the deed and sometimes the other woman. Didn’t matter to her as long as it was done.
Her engine began to purr as Eric slid behind the wheel. It was only a matter of time now.