The Girl Who Cried Snowflakes

Since January of last year, Instagram user @SnowShellyJackson has been writing a story one word at a time – weather permitting.

Her story is especially interesting because every word of it has been carved into newly fallen snow.



And because I’m secretly a 12 year old boy, this is my favourite of all the 274 words she’s posted as of writing this:


For those of you who are too lazy to read through all the photos to piece together the story thus far, I’ve written it out for you below.

I know, I’m a saint.

“To approach snow too closely is to forget what it is,” said the girl who cried snowflakes.
“Through a microscope one discovers that there are many kinds of snow:
those made up of tiny paintings of shipwrecks in the style of Bonaventura Peeters,
those made up of miniature bowls of wax fruit, very beautifully and realistically formed, except for the size;
those made up of the fingernail clippings of babies; and those made up of the trimmed and tattooed scalps of shrews used as money by certain native peoples of the southern Urals.
There are snows made up of clock faces and circular slide rules, of maps to undiscovered countries, of the shattered breath of clouds, of those who have cried out for help unheard on a clear winter day.
Obviously, there is snow made of the unread letters of unloved lovers, and metal snow made of discs with serrated edges, to mention only one of the innumerable members of the great class of the snows of war, for there is no end to the forms of cruelty.
But there are innumerable kindly snows as well, such as those made of the golden crumbs of sleep and dainty snows made of miniature ladies underpants, some with persimmon colored ribbons woven through the lace, some embroidered with tiny green apples.
There are hungry snows made of ground teeth and sacrificial snows made of the breast feathers of songbirds, each tipped with a bead of frozen blood.
There are red snows and black snows, blue and green; city-dwellers warn of yellow snow but few know of the brilliant canary snow of certain glacial valleys in the Alps:
To pick one’s way
And the rest it to be continued…
What do you think of this temporary art form?
If you want to keep up with it, follow her on Instagram @SnowShellyJackson
Written by Nicole V

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