Stories of Fire is an interdisciplinary project that explores personal narratives of wildland fire and informal STEM learning in rural Idaho.  Stories of Fire Integrative Informal STEM Learning Through Participatory Narratives Teresa Cavazos Cohn, Erin James, Leda Kobziar, Jennifer Ladino, Kayla Bordelon, Jack Kredell, Jenny Wolf funded by the National Science Foundation Constructing fire board models of wildfire scenarios with students in the Stories of Fire project. Stories of Fire is an interdisciplinary project that explores personal narratives of wildland fire and informal STEM learning in rural Idaho. The American West is rife with personal narratives of evacuation, smoke, disaster. Yet alongside these dramatic events and the deep, powerful emotions that come with them, fire scientists carry a quieter but no less important message: fire has always been a part of the western landscape, many wildland fires play natural and beneficial roles, and in a warming world we must learn to live with more fire. Indeed, prescribed burns — set intentionally by fire managers — are a critical management tactic. Rather than dichotomizing “fire as terror” and “fire as tool,” we explore narrative as a means of integrating the deep emotion of lived experience with fire science to support a better, more holistic, understanding of wildfire in Idaho. Bringing together a science communicator, a narratologist, a fire ecologist, and a specialist on emotions and public lands, our interdisciplinary research team explores: 1. What characteristics of narrative inform fire science communication, and 2. What audience-centered approaches best support participant narratives in informal STEM learning? Our team works collaboratively with informal educators based in rural areas of Idaho, including the Sawtooth Interpretive Center, Ponderosa State Park, Celebration Park, the McCall Outdooor Science School, and Craters of the Moon National Monument. This material is based upon work supported by the National Science Foundation under Grant No. 2006101. Any opinions, findings, and conclusions or recommendations expressed in this material are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the National Science Foundation. Learn more about the project . Next

Storying Extinction Responding to the Loss of North Idaho’s Mountain Caribou Jack Kredell, Chris Lamb w/ Devin Becker Summer 2020 to present funded by the CDIL Graduate Student Summer Fellowship Program, Summer 2020 The Lab partnered with the University of Idaho Library’s Center for Digital Inquiry and Learning (CDIL) to support “Storying Extinction ,” a digital humanities project spearheaded by graduate students Jack Kredell and Chris Lamb, which officially launched by CDIL on February 1, 2022. Supported by CDIL’s Graduate Student Fellowships, Kredell and Lamb produced a GIS-based “deep map” consisting of oral histories, trail camera footage, nonfiction essays, and historical documents related to mountain caribou and their 2019 Idaho extirpation. Kredell, Lamb, and CDIL director Devin Becker will co-author an analysis of the project and its methodology for publication later this year. Learn more about this project. July 2021 The Spokesman Review Article special thanks to project partner: explore the Storying Extinction website: Next

featured artist Megan Hatch Portland, OR Megan Hatch is a queer, multidisciplinary artist living in Portland, OR. She uses art-making to explore the world around and inside of her, and also to share the stories of those journeys. She does this because she knows, deep down, that art is essential to our collective thriving: it’s how we’re going to find our way. You can find more of her work here . featured artwork "the way isn't clear - and yet here we are" archival pigment print, 27in x 10in, 2022 "almost there - losing ground" archival pigment print, 10in x 27in, 2022 "leaning in - falling down" archival pigment print, 10in x 27in, 2022 responding to Ground Truths The earth is burning, and not in a Paris sort of way. We’re told to lean in, only to find ourselves constantly leaning down to pick up the pieces. Losing ground, falling down….We fall in, call in, reach out and sometimes shout with joy. We mend the cracks with the gold we have, and that we are, so we can carry water and each other. I started this work in 2020, which had the worst fire season in Oregon to date. That year also marked the beginning of the COVID pandemic, and George Floyd died at the hands of police. The experience of each of these tragedies was inextricably linked. So much felt broken. So much still does. In this series, the photographs are bound together by a thin golden line as if by kintsugi, the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold. They become a series of vessels to hold our hurt and our hope. There is healing to be found in holding multiple truths in our awareness at the same time, in acknowledging the fullness of the moment, and of each other. By doing so, we get to practice wholeness. There is no way to where we want to go without practice. This is my ground truth… The photographs in this series were made on land across the street from where I live in Portland, OR. Once a landfill, it is now an essential urban greenway for wildlife. It has been burned by wildfire twice in the past three years. more of Megan's perspective Ground truth 2: Watching the smoke roll across the land. This photo was taken during the 2020 Oregon fire season, which was one of the worst to date. Ground truth 1: Nearly all of the photos from the series "yes | and" were made on land that is home to Dharma Rain Zen Center . This area was originally a landfill. It is now an essential urban greenway for wildlife. Megan walks there almost every day. Ground truth 3: The land here gets parched every summer now. Brush fires can and do start easily. Living in an area of town with sparse tree cover exacerbates this, among many other detrimental impacts . This year Megan's family is adding several trees and shrubs along the street by their house. They are also amending the soil with biochar, which both increases soil health and sequesters carbon. Chat back to exhibition Chat

AIF crew 2024 Laura Ahola-Young Pocatello, ID Laura Ahola-Young received her MFA from San Jose State University and her BFA from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design. She currently resides in Pocatello, Idaho where she is an Associate Professor of Art at Idaho State University. Originally from the Iron Range and Boundary Waters Canoe Area of Northern Minnesota, Laura is influenced by landscape, winters, ice and resilience. She is currently developing work that incorporates scientific research, plant physiology, critical plant studies, geology and personal narrative. TREX involvement More on her story in Fall 2024... but for now, Laura is thrilled to work with the Confluence Lab and other selected artists and writers. She excited for the training as she can already see that she will be able to learn the importance of training, organization and policy when it comes to fire, a very different way of approach fire than that of an artist. Chat back to AIF residency Chat

Human & Ecological Change in the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness: A Collaborative Rephotography Project Teresa Cavazos Cohn ... ... A team of faculty and students, led by Dr. Teresa Cavazos Cohn (Natural Resources and Society), is using rephotography methods to examine social and ecological change in this wilderness setting. In addition to compiling historical-current photograph pairs, researchers will conduct semi-structured interviews with a variety of stakeholders in order to better understand interpretations of change, which may differ between cultural groups. The Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness is an ideal location for repeat photography. First, many areas have been photographed by residents, outfitters, and recreationists over the past century and pre- and post- wilderness designation impacted use in ways that are visible on the landscape. Second, vegetation in some areas have dramatically changed due to an increase of forest fire as well as invasive species such as cheat grass (Bromus tectorum). We believe photo sets are both visually compelling (and of interest to the general public) as well as informative for broader discussions of change in the Frank Church-River of No Return. Photographs will be housed in the U of I digital photo archives. This project is funded by the DeVlieg Foundation. Next

featured artists Fuller Initiative for Productive Landscapes: Overlook Field School Eugene, OR The Fuller Initiative for Productive Landscapes (FIPL) is an internationally recognized center for research-based design and design as research, focused on the role of place in cultural sustainability, and grounded in the arts and humanities. Guided by a team of scholars, students use fieldwork and art methods to investigate the ongoing stewardship of landscapes and culture. featured artwork RECOVERY Overlook Field School 2021 Highlights of this five week project can be reviewed in this digital booklet . featuring works by: William Booner, Hanna Chapin, Celia Hensey, Abby Pierce, Kennedy Rauh, Audrey Rycewizc, Massayo Simon, Ian Vierck, Nancy Silver & David Buckly Borden responding to Ground Truths In the western United States, wildfires are becoming bigger, hotter, and more frequent due to the effects of climate change. During the summer of 2021, as smoke from western fires stretched across the country, the Oregon-based session of the Overlook Field School explored the theme of “Recovery” as it relates to wildfire burns. Analogous to resilience, restoration, and regeneration, recovery is a return to some previous state - perhaps a new normal - and ever more complicated when applied to a medium as dynamic as landscape in the time of rapid climate change. Over the course of five weeks, we visited post-fire sites in the Willamette National Forest, most of which occurred within the last 30 years. The projects shared in the Recovery booklet are the outcome of these forest explorations and creative interactions led by educator, Michael Geffel, and artist-in-residence, David Buckley Borden. We were also strongly influenced by concurrent environmental events: a record heat wave which coincided with the first day of the field school, and the explosion of wildfires as we entered our final design phase. Despite the prevailing narrative of catastrophe and destruction, the recovery we observed was incredibly inspirational. The Field School culminated in a public exhibition of temporary landscape installations that centered the dynamism of post-fire landscapes and what they can teach us about resiliency, as we aspired to communicate the beneficial impacts of fire in the face of increasingly longer fire seasons. more from FIPL's projects Despite the prevailing narrative of catastrophe and destruction, the recovery observed by the group was inspiring. We aspired to communicate these experiences through landscape installations in order to express as well as document the beneficial impacts of fire, as we are experiencing increasingly longer fire seasons. The work draws extensively from field visits to post-fire sites within the Willamette National Forest. We were also strongly influenced by concurrent environmental events: a record heat wave and the explosion of wildfires bookended the Field School. Chat back to exhibition Chat

The Confluence Lab, in conjunction with the University of Idaho's Prichard Art Gallery, is seeking creative, visual works for an online exhibition series, Stories of Fire. ARTISTS-IN-FIRE Frequently Asked Questions Do I need previous experience with fire? No. Do I need to do the training before I apply? No. I’m not a resident of Idaho, Oregon or Washington. Can I still apply? For this inaugural residency, we are prioritizing artists and writers living or working in these states or adjacent regions. If your state, province or tribal nation is within or borders Idaho, Oregon or Washington, you are eligible. We look forward to hearing from you. My creative work is not about fire. Can I still apply for the residency? While a demonstrated interest in social and/or ecological issues will be helpful, you do NOT need to have made previous creative work about fire to apply for the residency. You WILL need to explain through the application questions WHY you are interested in experiencing prescribed fire and HOW you see it impacting future creative work. My creative practice is more interdisciplinary. What kind of work samples should I apply with? Up to 5 samples of creative work will be reviewed by jurors no matter how many ways you label yourself or your practice. When submitting samples, you are welcome to submit any mix of files including images, .pdf documents, sound clips, short video clips (web-links are preferred), etc. If you have further questions, please contact us. How do I prepare for the on-the-ground training? Residency participants will complete approximately 40 hours of online training at their own pace but prior to attending the prescribed fire training module. Physical training for the arduous pack test may also be helpful. I’m slightly overwhelmed with understanding the training involved. Can you help me sort it out? Two phases of training are involved in this residency: the first is online and the second is an immersive, on-the-ground prescribed fire training. The online training can be done at your own pace but MUST BE COMPLETED BEFORE the on-the-ground, prescribed-fire-training module and NO LATER THAN MAY 1, 2024. On-the-ground module dates are determined by the Prescribed Fire Training Exchange (TREX) organizers. In the Pacific Northwest they generally take place in the spring and fall of each year. And don’t worry! The Confluence Lab will host a training orientation via Zoom for selected participants and be available to guide them through this process. How much time will I need to devote to training? Residency participants will complete approximately 40 hours of online training at their own pace but prior to attending the prescribed fire training module. Physical training for the arduous pack test may also be helpful. The on-the-ground training is immersive and runs from 7 to 12 days depending on the TREX module. PARTICIPANTS MUST BE WILLING AND ABLE TO ATTEND A FULL TREX MODULE. Does this residency provide studio space? No. Since the main goal for this residency is that your creative work finds its way out into your local community, we want you to have the ability to return and/or create in locations of your choosing. Will I be required to travel as part of this residency? Yes. Recipients must be willing to attend a full TREX module and will be responsible for arranging their own travel to and from that module. A portion of funding awarded to participants is meant to help cover cost acquired through this travel. I have some ideas of how I might connect with my community after this residency, but don’t know yet when and where that will happen. Can I still apply? Yes. We expect applicants to have put thought into how they would like to share their experience with their communities, but do not expect that all of the details of that to be resolved before applying. The experience itself may influence how and what you share. Our lab understands that this will take time and can help advise you in this process in the future as needed. I don’t intend to work as a firefighter beyond this residency. Can I still apply? Yes. There is no requirement that you become a professional wildland firefighter, though you would be qualified. And you may find that you want to keep participating in prescribed burns as a volunteer! I already have experience with TREX training. Can I apply to just get funding for my creative practice through AIF? The AIF residency is intended specifically for artists and writers to experience prescribed fire. While previous experience with fire will not disqualify you, recipients will be expected to attend a TREX module and priority will be given to those who would not otherwise be able to have this experience. What if my creative reflection takes longer than 6 months? We understand that your creative processing and reflection may take longer than 6 months, BUT we ask that you share some portion of your creative reflections, even if still in process, with your home community within 6 months of your TREX experience. Once I return home, how much time am I expected to devote to this project? The time devoted will vary from participant to participant. You will be expected to write a creative blog post to shared through the Confluence Lab website within one month of participation and to share your experience through your creative practice with your home community within six months of participation. Will I be at the TREX with all the other AIF residents? No. There may be more than one AIF resident but the whole cohort will not attend the same TREX. The Confluence Lab will work with selected participants to find the TREX that works best for them and for TREX organizers. How much does the training cost? There is no fee for the online training. Most TREX modules charge a participation fee of $300 but these fees will be covered for AIF participants (up to $300). A few TREX charge more, depending on their location, accommodations, and length of module. Participants will be responsible for arranging their own travel to and from the TREX module. The Confluence Lab will help participants find the TREX that works best for them. PLEASE NOTE: As required by TREX organizers, participants will be required to maintain their o wn medical insurance during the TREX module. They will also be required to liability waivers with the University of Idaho and TREX organizers prior to participation. For more clarification, please contact theconfluencelab@gmail.com Next

As the second part of the Stories of Fire online exhibition series, FUEL LOADING showcases creative works that reckon with the accumulations of fuels in the Pacific Northwest and surrounding regions. Stories of Fire On line Exhibition Ser ies Part II: Anne Acker-Mathieu Ignition Casino acrylic collage, 17in x 20in, 2023 Fire depends on the fuels that feed it. Together with topography and weather, fuels determine a wildfire’s behavior: where it burns, how quickly it spreads, how hot it gets. Fire managers use the term “fuel loading” to categorize the amounts and types of vegetative fuels in a given area. But whether dry grasses, shrubs, dense stands of conifers or logging slash, the accumulation of fuels on the landscape reflects both the ecological processes and the cultural and social imperatives that shape land management. Fire suppression and industrialized land use, structural racial and economic disparities, residential development, roads and recreation, the support or hindrance of ecological stewardship and Indigenous fire sovereignty: all these “fuels” load onto the landscape as uneven densities, distributions and renewals. As the second part of the Stories of Fire online exhibition series, FUEL LOADING showcases creative works that reckon with the accumulations of fuels in the Pacific Northwest and surrounding regions. These works engage a broad conception of fuel loading to measure the weights, densities and arrangements of fuels across ecological, social and material landscapes. They celebrate the dynamic potential of fire, while also pressing on the build-ups, sparks and residues that contribute to flammability. They attend to the fuels themselves and ask how fire and justice converge. “The whole earth is fuel-loaded; there is nowhere apart and smoke drifts easily across borders ...” Amiko Matsuo + Brad Monsma Amiko Matsuo + Brad Monsma Bat Cone Burn, pyrometric project ritual firing. final form: clay, terra sigillata, underglazes, 2014 Suze Woolf Splintered varnished watercolor on torn paper mounted on laser-cut polycarbonate & shaped matboard, 52in x 25in, 2023. An ancient burned juniper from the new BLM wilderness area Oregon Badlands. This work is presented in collaboration by: And made possible by the generous support of: Martina Shenal clockwise from left: Slash Piles 06, Slash Piles, Slash Piles 07, La Pine, Oregon, archival pigment prints, 28.25in x 22.25in, 2022 aj miccio Davis Burn Scar (w/detail) ink on bristol, 11in x 14in, 2023 Lisa Cristinzo How to write a painting acrylic on wood panel, 36in x 48in, 2022 Eric Ondina Nearer My God to Thee 2021 Kate Lund Brush Fit rip-stop nylon, wool, flannel, fleece, 2023 Lisa Cristinzo Marked Trail acrylic on linen, 60in x 82in, 2023 Kelsey Grafton Morphosis ceramic & organic found object, 16in x 4in x 2.5in, 2019 Anne Acker-Mathieu Fields of Fuel acrylic collage, 45in x 42in, 2022 Karin Bolender / Rural Alchemy Workshop (R.A.W.) RQP Card seemingly an autograph card, one of few existing pictures of the Rodeo Queen of the Pyrocene. “Fuel” is a designation inherently concerned with material and materiality. But, of course, fuel also signifies energy. Erin James read more on how artists are "Feeling Fuel" Amiko Matsuo + Brad Monsma Pyrometric Whirl Ink, ash, medium, Phos-Chek flame retardant on paper, 84in x 40in, 2017 photo credit: Larry Lytle Amiko Matsuo + Brad Monsma Pyrometric Landscape ash, medium, Phos-Chek flame retardant on paper; 84in x 40in, 2017 photo credit: Kevin Boland Lisa Cristinzo Birch Bark is like Snake Skin acrylic on wood panel, 36in x 48in, 2021 Suze Woolf Core Values fabric installation of knit/felted tree cores, woven ice cores, dyed and quilted sediment cores, dimensions variable, up to approx. 18 sq ft, 2023 Kelsey Grafton Remnant (two views of wall piece) ceramic, 14.5in x 11.5in x 6.5in, 2020 Kelsey Grafton Becoming ceramic, organic materials, found objects, and conviction, 8.3ft x 3ft x 5ft, 2021 Eric Ondina Check emulsion on canvas, 2021 Eric Ondina Inferno 2020 Eric Ondina Hot Leather 3 emulsion on board, 2020 " The planet, like many of us, is experiencing the build up, the burn, and the burn out ." Lisa Cristinzo read more about Fuel Loading's impacts through Erin James' reflective essay Lisa Cristinzo Fraternal Fire acrylic on wood panel, 77in x 60in, 2023 Suze Woolf Carved Out with Fire Pit tree: Varnished watercolor on torn paper mounted on shaped Gatorboard with wood hanging cradle. fire pit: black paper, rocks, spray-painted gas pump handle, empty propane tank, coal, insulator, corn cobs, 2022 barbed wire, model airplane, model semi-truck and model oil tanker railroad car added 2023. Suze Woolf Logged, Drifted and Burned varnished watercolor on torn paper mounted on shaped foam core with wood hanging cradle, 52in x 25in, 2023. washed-up log found on Newskowin Beach, Oregon. Anne Acker-Mathieu The Hand that Feeds You acrylic collage, 22in x 22in, 2023 Amiko Matsuo Zuihitsu video of site-specific, temporary public art project, Seattle, WA, 2023 video credit: Tom Reese further considerations FL Burn Out "The Build Up, the Burn, and the Burn Out" Eric Onida’s Nearer My God to Thee depicts a marching band on fire, or perhaps a marching band emerging from fire; the bright reds of the band’s uniform, coupled with the yellows of their instruments, blend into the fire behind them, such that it’s difficult to tell where music becomes flame and flame becomes music. Onida explains that his paintings, produced with a unique recipe of egg tempera that blends viscous balsam, fossilized hard resins, egg yolk and water, depict “a society in the midst of its discontent, desperately trying to make sense of a destiny that often feels elusive, slipping beyond control and comprehension.” He also notes that paintings such as this one and Check , which similarly depicts an urban gas station emerging from (or perhaps about to be consumed by) threatening red flames that lurk in the background, draw conceptually from the fires depicted by the news media to be consuming the Pacific Northwest to represent “our social malaise as we grapple with the forces of unyielding natural and political environments.” These paintings certainly pose a stark question to me: what is the relationship between marching bands and wildfire? What about the city corner gas station–what role does it play in today’s firescape? Indeed, how, exactly, are ecological and social environments intertwined? Lisa Cristinzo’s Marked Trail poses a similar set of questions. As a Canadian myself, I easily recognize the symbols of Canuck patriotism in her work: the wheat and the geese that frame the painting, the pine cones and snowy, cloudy fields that root us in the North, and the cottage core kitsch of the colored mailboxes, flags, and place signs. These images combine to evoke a knee-jerk sense of national pride–for me, they drudge up an overly simplistic and idealistic idea of Canada that typically lives in a land of maple leaves and syrup. Yet the red brush strokes on the left side of the painting niggle me. These strokes could echo the most iconic of Canadian images: the red leaf, standing brightly against a white background. But they also disturbingly look aflame. Once again, I ask myself: what are the connections between these tokens of national pride–geese, snow, red foliage–and the fires that increasingly appear where we think they should not? And how do these artifacts of culture in and of themselves fuel these fires? Cristinzo’s artist’s statement gives us some answers to these questions. She notes that her current work, including Marked Trail and Birch Bark is like Snakeskin , came to her during a stay in a stone cabin. She began each morning collecting fuel for the wood stove, and “soon came to see the pieces of wood, newspaper, burnable objects, and ash as triangular compositions suitable for painting.” She quickly found herself delaying the fire each morning, pausing first to sketch her fuels before burning them. “Building a fire is a means of building a painting,” she states. Yet her process of accumulation-to-burn also speaks to a problem that she extends to the human species. “Our obsession with possession has caused a warming planet,” she writes, “leading to intense weather systems and catastrophic events. The planet, like many of us, is experiencing the build up, the burn, and the burn out.” This emphasis on the build up, the burn, and the burn out is fitting for an exhibition on Fuel Loading . As the introduction to the exhibition explains, fire managers use this titular term to account for amounts and types of vegetative fuels in a given area. In the Pacific Northwest, these fuels include dry grasses, shrubs, and dense stands of conifers. But Onida and Cristinzo’s work helps us take a much broader view of fuel, not just as materials that accumulate on a forest floor but also as social and cultural practices that facilitate a build up and subsequent burn. Work like Nearer My God to Thee and Marked Trail helps me realize how the everyday practices of my life, including attending the local football game, filling my car with gas, and taking a quick break at a cottage up north, are all part of the complicated network of values, attitudes, and behaviors that shape the world in which I live. Fuel loads, not just via ecological accumulation, but also via social tradition and routine. Eric Ondina, Nearer My God to Thee Lisa Cristinzo, Marked Trail Shenal's Slash Piles 06 & 07 Karin Bolender’s work with the Rural Alchemy Workshop also emphasizes the link between fire and our region’s cultural traditions. Her playful Rodeo Queen of the Pyrocene autograph card presses on, as she explains, “generic myths of the ‘Western Way of Life’ as they manifest in Pacific Northwest forestry, ranching, conservation, and other land-management practices, in both obvious and less visible ways.” The Rodeo Queen’s ghostly face and crown of flames task viewers with the question: How do iconic (and beloved) cultural practices of the North American West respond to an epoch increasingly determined by fire?" She also demands that we rethink the role of cultural ambassadors of this region right now. Bolender explains that the Rodeo Queen “thunders in and out of arena spotlights, waving a spectacular, distracting red flag amidst the more hidden dimensions of cultural, capital, and fossil flows and legacies that shape the land as we (don’t) know it and fuel its range of conflagrations.” What are the Rodeo Queen’s responsibilities to this region and its legacies, both positive and negative, overt and hidden? And what responsibilities do we, as viewers and potential fans, have in protecting the cultural and ecological heritages that she symbolizes before they–and she–burn out? Finally, Marina Shenal’s photographs give a forward-looking spin on the entanglement of ecological and social fuels. Her portraits of slash piles gathered in La Pine, Oregon, in late November 2022, are a much more literal take on fuel loading: they depict the vegetative fuels that have been cleared and piled as part of forest fuels reduction work. In Slash Piles , the scale and size of the accumulated material might appear as a warning. The brown slash piles frame and center the green, living trees as if to highlight the violence and destruction of the clearing that has taken place. What was once living, green, and standing tall is now dead, brown, and on the ground. Yet upon a closer look I also see two additional timelines in Shenal’s photos. One looks backwards to grapple with the accumulation of ecological fuels, due in no small part to the cultural suppression inherent in fire suppression policies. In this timeline, accumulation goes hand-in-hand with erasure: the build up of vegetation in the Pacific Northwest is intimately linked to the nullification of indigenous fire practices that center around the regular implementation of “cultural burns”--controlled fires used to renew the land and culturally important plants and animals. The other timeline looks forward. These slash piles have been staged in colder, wetter months for an upcoming prescribed burn to reduce fuel loads in the forest. Viewing them with a longer, future-facing timeline, I understand them not as symbols of a healthy forest that once was, but as the fuel of the more fire-resilient forest that will be. As Shenal explains, her photographs inspired her to learn more about “efforts to create healthy forest ecosystems” in the Pacific Northwest including “reducing fuel loads during the winter season” to “reverse the decades-long fire suppression strategies that . . . have left the forests vulnerable to intense wildfires.” The intimate, close view of Slash Piles 06 and Slash Piles 07 encourages me to appreciate the intricate beauty of these fuels and reconfigures my understanding of the dead materials as emblems of destruction to those of creation. They signify land management practices that are moving beyond suppression-at-all-costs to embrace the implementation of fire for both ecological and cultural purposes. They thus stand as potent images of a different kind of fuel loading which can support different kinds of fire, renewing social and ecological landscapes. "Feeling Fuel" Kelsey Grafton's Becoming Suze Woolf's Splintered As the introductory statement of the Fuel Loading exhibit makes clear, fire practitioners and managers tend to classify fuels by type: dry grasses, shrubs, dense stands of conifers, logging slash piles, etc. These categories emphasize that “fuel” is a designation inherently concerned with material and materiality. But, of course, fuel also signifies energy, in that fires burn differently depending on the type of material that feeds them: grasses are quick and hot, while slash piles tend to burn slow and steady. It thus makes sense that much of the artwork in the Fuel Loading exhibit foregrounds the energetic presence—and emotional valences—of specific materials. Take, for example, the pieces that make up Kelsey Grafton’s Trees of Morrow series. These sculptures are directly composed of the raw materials of fire’s fuel. As she explains in her artist statement, Grafton draws from her family homestead in Colville, Washington to “hand-harvest earthenware clay, pull textures from fallen structures, and gather artifacts left behind by my ancestors as a way of preserving our fading family history through art-making.” As structures like Becoming and Morphosis illustrate, this material engagement increasingly concerns itself with fire—as the homestead has become vulnerable to wildfire and the family busies themselves with tree thinning and slash pile burning, the fuel that provides the energy to Grafton’s artistic practice becomes the same fuel driving fire prevention measures on the site. For Grafton, this material fuel lends her creative practice an optimistic energy; Becoming clearly juxtaposes preventative burning with new life, as it depicts fresh berries growing from charred wood. Suze Woolf’s work shares this fuel and energy. She was formerly an artist who painted “beautiful intact landscapes,” yet works like Splintered and Logged, Drifted, and Burned provide us with intimate portraits of individual burned trees. This focus and its detailed representation of the fuel’s transformation by fire is a means of mediating Woolf’s anxieties about human impacts on the climate. As she suggests, the carbonized, “eaten away” snags of her paintings task us with finding “unusual beauty” in what is all too easy to dismiss as used up. right: Kate Lund's Brush Fit left: aj miccio's Davis Burn Scar Feeling Fuel Amiko Matsuo + Brad Monsma, Pyrometric Whirl The Northwest Fire Science Consortium’s informational pamphlet “What is Fuel?” tells us that “fuel is the only component of the fire triangle that land owners and managers can influence.” In this declaration, they confidently position fuel as within our control. Yet several of the pieces in Fuel Loading call this confidence into question. Kate Lund’s imposing Brush Fit , which she composed of rip-stop nylon, wool, flannel, and fleece, evokes the emotional experience of being caught in too much fuel—of not being able to influence this particular corner of the fire triangle, no matter the equipment that you have on hand. Lund explains that a “brushfit” is a temper tantrum that you throw “when you succumb to the challenges of walking in an overgrown forest.” The particular brushfit that inspires Lund’s sculpture took place as she and a crew were hiking 50 lb bladder bags into a small fire in the steep terrain of Northern Idaho. Lund and the crew begin their hike with positive attitudes, buoyed in part by their gear and saws. Yet the density of the forest quickly defeated them. She explains: “I remember stopping, grabbing a hold of a tree so that I didn’t roll down the hill, and thinking, What am I doing here? Why do I do this to myself? Why are we even putting this fire out when this whole hillside needs to burn anyway?” Brush Fit powerfully visualizes this transition from idealized expectations to frustrated realities, progressing from clean lines to a frazzled mass that looms over us. The piece is dominated by a literal increase in the density of materials and poses a vital question: how much control over fuels do we have, really? aj miccio’s drawing of the Davis Burn Scar and Anne Acker-Mathieu’s acrylic collages—especially Ignition Casino and Fields of Fuel —replicate the affective tension of Lund’s brushfit. Like Lund’s sculpture, miccio’s drawing and Acker-Mathieu’s paintings relish in the density of visual information to provoke emotional responses from viewers. In their packedness and abundance of detail and color, respectively, they too suggest that we may not be as in control of fuel and/or our emotions as we might assume. The airier pieces in Fuel Loading offer me some relief, albeit fleetingly. Amiko Matsuo and Brad Monsma’s Pyrometric Whirl initially provokes in me the opposite emotional and affective experience of Brush Fit . Whereas my anxiety increases as my eye travels upward in the latter, I feel a sense of calm as I scroll from bottom to top of Matsuo and Monsma’s image. A dense red clump lifts into ethereal black and white whisps, providing me with a sense of upward relief and evaporation. I am released from the brushfit of the painting’s bottom half, finding solace in a dance of vapors. But, fitting to form, this respite is as transitory as the swirling air that evokes it—the longer that I look, the more that bottom half and top half intermesh such that I’m confronted with the process of one becoming the other. The whisps are not relief from the red clump but its latest iteration; as I learn that the red pigment of the painting stems from the fire retardant Phos-chek, I am once again thinking about fuel, feelings, and control. Matsuo and Monsma explain that their work, especially the “wound-like” Phos-check marks on paper, expresses “the ironies of fire suppression rhetoric while also suggesting the rage of a combustion and intolerant political landscape.” “The whole earth is fuel-loaded,” they continue, and their work demands that we grapple with the full extent of our desire to influence any (or all?) parts of the fire triangle. I now see the painting as depicting the transformation of material from a site-specific measure of prevention into a traveling vector of toxicity waiting for our inhale, and become aware of how we, literally, become and embody the very fuels that we add to today’s firescapes. The artists’ connection of the physical and cultural fires that dominate contemporary life in the American West broadens the scope and urgency of this tension: how do our suppression efforts—suppression of fire, but also of political debates and schisms—become fuels in and of themselves? And to what sort of energy do these fuels give rise? further considerations contributed by Confluence Lab member Erin James, December 2023. Next

featured artist Mary Vanek Smith Eagle, ID Mary Vanek Smith came to painting later in life, inspired by the landscapes of the ranch in Ola, Idaho. Her stunning oils and watercolors are an examination of the quiet power of nature. Smith has studied with Idaho artists Fred Choate and Geoff Krueger. Her work has been featured at Eagle City Hall, St. Luke's hospital, the Nampa Outdoor Festival for the Arts and Eagle Life magazine. Smith says for her, nature gives us a window into the sublime and that a successful painting "speaks to everyone's desire for connection and meaning in life." featured artwork "Sky on Fire" oil on canvas, 11in x 14in responding to Ground Truths My life living in Boise and on a ranch in rural Idaho inspired my art. I came to painting later in life, because I wanted to express the peace and tranquility I found in nature. My art cannot be separated from Idaho; it is as much the creator of these paintings as I am. So often on our ranch in Ola, we would experience the fires we were reading about through these stunning sunsets. We could smell the smoke in the air and we knew this beautiful natural display represented hundreds of thousands of acres of forest being burned. more from Mary's perspective ... an inspirational view close to Mary Vanek Smith's home Mary Vanek Smith's studio space Mary Vanek Smith's works in progress, 2023 Chat back to exhibition Chat

The Nature and Nuance of Climate Change Perceptions Kristin Haltinner, Dilshani Sarathchandra, Jennifer Ladino, Tom Ptak, Steve Radil, & Michelle Weist funded by the College of Letters, Arts, and Social Sciences, University of Idaho 2019-present This project, led by Drs. Kristin Haltinner and Dilshani Sarathchandra (Associate Professors of Sociology, University of Idaho) aims to develop a deeper understanding of climate change perceptions, with a focus on segments of the American public who remain skeptical about the phenomenon. Based on interviews and survey data collected from Idaho, Washington, and Oregon, this work has shown that climate change skepticism is a core identity shaped by personal experience, trust in institutions (e.g., science, media), and religious beliefs. While it is difficult to change identity dynamics, the researchers have uncovered several areas of common interest among skeptics and believers – a shared concern for air and water pollution, habitat destruction, species extinction, and an interest in investing in renewable energy – which can be capitalized on to develop public policy that is likely to garner wider support. Findings from this project have been disseminated via a series of peer-reviewed publications from 2018 to 2022. Drs. Haltinner and Sarathchandra are also authors of the upcoming book, “Inside the World of Climate Change Skeptics,” to be published in Spring ’23 by the University of Washington Press. As a continuation of this project, Drs. Haltinner and Sarathchandra’s new work examines the factors that lead to changing skeptical views about climate change. Their preliminary findings suggest that personal experience with climate or weather disasters, conversation with trusted people, and integration into more open minded religious faiths or social groups can make people more willing to consider and engage with climate science. In the immediate future, the project leads and their collaborators will explore how real or simulated experiences with climate disasters impact the beliefs and decision-making processes of climate change skeptics, using tools such as narrative fiction, documentaries, fictional films, virtual reality, and natural exposure to extreme weather. WATCH: Researchers Dilshani Sarathchandra and Kristin Haltinner interviewedabout climate change skeptics across the Northwest to find out more about their beliefs. KTVB Idaho Channel 7, July 29, 2022 Team Members: Kristin Haltinner (Sociology, University of Idaho); Dilshani Sarathchandra (Sociology, University of Idaho); Jennifer Ladino (English, University of Idaho), Matthew Grindal (Criminology, University of Idaho), Steve Radil (Geosciences, US Air Force Academy); Tom Ptak (Geography, Texas State University). Next

AIF crew 2024 Erica Meryl Thomas Portland, OR Erica Meryl Thomas is an interdisciplinary artist, educator and labor organizer. Her work explores the ways we relate our personal histories to social, political, and natural histories. She uses the art making process to illuminate and celebrate visible and invisible labor, and visit with the darker sides of place. Her work is collaborative, site specific and often participatory, demanding flexibility of form: installations, printmaking, artist books, storytelling and dialogue, and other experiential forms among them. Her recent practice has centered on the human relationship with wildfire and smoke, utilizing foraged charcoal from wildfire burn sites to produce handmade ink and printing images to tell stories of the landscapes. In 2023, she co-curated and was a participating artist in a group exhibition, Obscurity: life inside the smoke, (World Forestry Center in Portland, OR). Her printmaking and installation presented stories and images of incarcerated wildland firefighters printed with her foraged charcoal ink. The installation invited visitors to send messages to the incarcerated wildland firefighters, and concluded with a show in a minimum security prison where some of the firefighters are based.. In 2014 she received an MFA in Art and Social Practice from Portland State University where she is now a faculty member teaching interdisciplinary courses on art, design and social theory. She is the Co-Chair and Chair of Political Action for Portland State University’s adjunct faculty labor union (PSUFA-AFT local 3571), and uses her voice to create art and action in solidarity with interconnected political, social and environmental movements. TREX involvement More on her story in Fall 2024... but for now, Erica is looking forward to the physical experience of being near and working with fire, and all of the sensory elements (smell, touch, sounds, etc.) that go along with the work. She loves a physical challenge and prefers to learn through doing, so she is excited for the opportunity to be among a crew working together as a means of experiential research. Chat back to AIF residency Chat

AIF crew 2024 Rachel Richardson Berkeley, CA Rachel Richardson is the author of three books of poetry, SMOTHER (forthcoming from W. W. Norton & Co. in 2025), and Hundred-Year Wave (2016) and Copperhead (2011), both selections in the Carnegie Mellon Poetry Series. She has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and Wallace Stegner Program at Stanford University. Her poetry and prose appear in The New York Times Magazine, Lit Hub, Yale Review, APR, Kenyon Review Online, at the Poetry Foundation, on The Slowdown, and elsewhere. Rachel received an MFA in Poetry from the University of Michigan, an MA in Folklore from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and a BA in English from Dartmouth College. Rachel is the Co-Founder of Left Margin LIT , a literary arts center in Berkeley, California, and serves on the board of the Bay Area Book Festival . She is currently Distinguished Visiting Writer in the MFA program at St. Mary's College of California. TREX involvement More on her story in Fall 2024... To Rachel, this residency offers her the chance to immerse herself in the landscape where she lives, to learn more deeply about its ecology and the risks it faces. As an artist, she loves the framing of the residency as being "in fire." She is excited for the chance to consider a "residency" as an immersion in experience rather than a retreat from it. New experience always generates new work for her, and learning about fire in particular is deeply relevant to the delicate ecosystem in which she lives, so it will help her think about human communities in relation to our place. Further, since the training is focused on sustainability, she hope this residency furthers her understanding of engaged solutions and community-building that can grow out of our climate crisis. Chat back to AIF residency Chat