As my company, EarthCircle Films, gears up to...

As my company, EarthCircle Films, gears up to shoot its latest short, The Coldest Winter, I meditate on how priorities would change for those affected by an event so catastrophic that the United States’ power grid has been unable to provide electricity through the coldest months of winter. This is the backdrop of the film. The script is finished, I’m just thinking of the banal details that obsess artists. The simple touches that separate good from great.

The film takes place in Chicago. I’m a recent witness to the thunder-snow-blizzard snowmageddon in Chiberia, where the above photo was snapped. The timing of our film is entirely coincidental.

The details start at the feet. Cold, wet feet. Socks drying by the wood-burning fire. They smell bad because hand washing my clothes is the only option.

The streets are buried under several feet of snow. Gas and oil has been dedicated to generators providing power for only the most essential services. Hospitals. Shelters.

So the snow outside is ubiquitous. Small paths have been cleared but my shoes and pants will always have ice on them when I come back inside. I scavenge for clean, dry clothes rather than wash my own.

There is nothing to hunt or naturally survive off of. All that is left is frozen and canned food. Spring is almost here. I’m not worried about running out of food, as long as I ration intelligently. If I go out, I don’t hunt for deer, I hunt for frozen dinners left inside of freezers in abandoned apartments.

If I’m on my own, I look for clothes, food and things to burn. I look for allies. I watch for looters.

My feet are wet. If I shave, I shave every few weeks. The layers of clothing press my body hair against my skin. If feels unusual and liberating to take them off. But it doesn’t last long. It’s too cold to go around with bare skin. So the layers go back on. My hair is oily.

The pipes have long since frozen. The bathroom is outside. If my feet are warm and my pants are dry, the last thing I want to do is go to the bathroom and face the snow. Hold it for ten more minutes.

Finally, keep survival essentials in places that are easy to reach. No need to use a closet or drawers. They get more use now that there is no electricity. A knife or two. Rope. A sled to haul plunder. Hand-made snow shoes. Gloves. Lots of gloves. A saw. Even my toothbrush. No need to venture far from the fire when it’s 40 degrees Fahrenheit indoors. Keep those items nearby.