Be Original | Buy Original : Thoughts on the Value of Original Art

Have you ever come across a painting, sculpture, piece of jewelry, or other original piece of art that just spoke to you? Was it as if you were being lured in by an invisible force, calling your name, begging you to make a place in your life for this magical creation? This has happened to me before, and I’m pretty sure this scenario has happened to you as well. But what does it all mean?

Perhaps the best way to explain this “invisible force” is through an experience that I had last spring while attending a local hand-made exhibition. It happened when I walked past a jewelry booth displaying necklaces, nothing like I had seen before. The depth and richness in the colours of the hand-made clay pieces drew me in, begging me to come for a closer look. After browsing the collection of necklaces, I noticed that there was a small assortment of stud earrings. Simple yet unique, each set containing just 2 colours. One pair in blue and black immediately spoke to me, asking me to take them home and make them a part of my life. I knew there was no going back now. If I didn’t buy these earrings, I would be thinking about them after I left, and then I may not have the opportunity to buy them at another time. So, I asked the artisan for the price (not that it mattered because I knew they were mine at that point), and at just $20, I felt like I had won the lottery.

I wear these earrings at some point every week, and they have become an accessory that I work into my regular wardrobe. The best part is that I continue to be drawn in by their invisible force, like the first day I spotted them at the exhibition. These earrings have a way of making me feel like my unique self, and I always feel great when I wear them. These are feelings of great value that never diminish, and all it took was that single purchase. Art like this will keep you looking at it and will leave you in wonder. When you buy original art that speaks to you, you are not just exchanging money for a finished product, but also for the artists’ process, time and energy that went into creating something unique. Ultimately, you receive a piece of the artist themselves. Art of this nature will hold its value, because YOU see the value in it – and truthfully, isn’t that really all that matters?

Art is personal and speaks to people in different ways, so why not surround yourself with art that is as unique to you as you are to the world? The next time a piece of art speaks to you, remember this:  buy original art that reflects your original self, and its value will never diminish.

Stay creative!

 


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Blair Brennan: Get It Down on Paper, The Talk

Blair Brennan: Get It Down on Paper, The Talk

Blair Brennan gave his Get It Down On Paper artist talk to a packed house in November 2017. If you weren't one of the lucky ones to get a spot (sitting or standing), or if you just want to revisit his excellent thoughts on artmaking, you're in luck. Blair has graciously provided his talk for our blog.

Enjoy! 


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This is Our Manifesto

This is Our Manifesto

Before we ever opened a gallery, we were a movement. We still are, and this is our Manifesto. Our reason for existing. Our map. 

Thanks to all who read the Manifesto for this video, and to every artist who has shared their beautiful work in our space(s) over the years. 


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How to get your art into Open Walls

How to get your art into Open Walls

Open Walls 3 starts this Saturday, and I encourage you to show a piece of work. It has to be ready to hang, and it has to be something most families would feel comfortable viewing together (we often have kids at this show), but otherwise, anything goes. One piece for every artist who wants to submit one. 
 


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On Mental Health and Faith Healers

The following is a repost from Arts Chaplain Dave Von Bieker's personal blog on World Mental Health Day.


I pick up my phone and open Facebook to a post from a friend admitting defeat. Depression is pummelling him and he sees no way out. He is asking for help – throwing a “what do I do?” into the universe.

His question is not so different from the many prayers I’ve tossed up – first for my mother and later for myself – asking God to throw a line to his drowning child. Flailing about, helpless.

I feel powerless reading my friend’s post. We are not close, so I may not be in a position to help, but I want to. More than anything, I feel his pain, and the way that pain isolates. I know how deep that pit can get. 

Today Is World Mental Health Day. A day for awareness. A day to fight stigma. 

I’ve been taking medication for anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder for about three years now. Those big pills go down without a fight these days, but it wasn’t always so easy.

I talk a lot about hope. Sometimes I feel that hope and other times the best I can do is to strain towards it. 

Growing up, my mom suffered a barrage of mental illness with shifting diagnosis. There was Depression. Schizophrenia. Anxiety. Hallucinations. Bipolar. The lines always blurring. “We are legion”, as the demons shout in the New Testament.

I learned to pray against those demons in Bible College. I learned to speak the name of Jesus against them and cast them out into the dark from whence they came. I learned that faith could move mountains and could most certainly heal mothers. 

Only I could not heal my mother. 

Some days, I would leave Bible College and take the bus to visit my mom in the mental ward. She was on lock-down behind thick electric deadbolts while I worked up the courage to pray. I would sit beside her on her hospital bed, sheets translucent as sun-starved skin, and I would pray. Nothing would happen. Or she would reassure me that I was helping. Or she would grow agitated as her mind was poisoned by the devils of religion. 

The prayers didn’t seem to work.

I would pray for myself, too, and often it would help. I would memorize hopeful bits of Bible. “A peace that passes all understanding”. A God who takes care of sparrows and flowers and even me. 

In time, the lapping waves of mental illness grew, drowning me in swirling, swelling thoughts I could no longer control. The stress of life frothed my mind into a frenzy. 

To dwell on my painful thoughts was to give them power, and to pray against them was to dwell on them. This is the paradox of prayer and mental illness. It can become a wicked trap, hurting with the very tools that should heal.

It’s not that I gave up on prayer. Maybe God still could do something about my mental illness, but he hadn't. Not yet. And that left me needing some other solution. 

It was hard to tell my wife because I could barely admit to myself that anything was wrong. I have watched mental illness tear apart a person and a family. 

Believe me when I tell you that I know the worst of what meds can do. Sometimes I see my mom as a frail collection of symptoms and flesh shaken apart by drugs over decades. 

Somehow–and maybe this was by prayer–I worked up the courage to talk to my doctor, dragging all my baggage along.

I’m happy to say that medication has been good for me. I am not perfect (and I’m not sure any of us have a perfect mind anyways), but I am better. The voices in my head are quiet enough for me to think other thoughts and live well, anyways. Maybe some day I will lose those voices entirely. I still pray for that. 

Other people are not so lucky. 

Here is what I would like to say to my friend, though it may be lost in that low isolation that renders all advice mute. Here is what I would like to say to anyone suffering a mis-wired-mind today. 

  • Everything matters. Prayer hasn’t healed me, but I do believe it helps. So does what I eat. So does medication. So does community. And sleep. What I read and what I watch and what I listen to. Every input. Every output. Construct a healthy life.
     
  • Act as if. Sometimes actions change feelings. Responsibilities remain regardless of my mood or drive towards them. So I do things anyways. Act as if. Do things through fear. Do things feeling lonely. Sometimes it’s the doing that pulls me through.
     
  • Exercise. The brain is a body part, so our bodies matter. Exercise can change body chemistry. Eat healthy and get your blood pumping every day. I almost never feel like working out, but I never regret it. Let your body heal your mind.
     
  • Go outside. Fresh air can work miracles. Walk towards some green. Let the river valley hold you. A dog might help.
     
  • Don’t be alone. Stigma is isolating. So often now I am learning that another friend or family member struggles with mental illness. So long in secret, we hide everywhere. We are not alone, unless we keep ourselves alone. Tell somebody. Let us in. Then go out when you feel like staying in. Let a friend take you to a movie. Have a conversation.
     
  • Faith matters. Whatever small sliver you can manage – use that. I still believe God cares, even though he does not take away all sickness. Or even most. I don’t understand this paradox, but I believe faith leads to hope. Hope that things can change. That things could transform at any moment. That good and wondrous things are happening all of the time, and one might just happen to me. Or to you.

I would say these things to my friend, and he may listen. Or he may not. This is the most frustrating part of mental illness – how it keeps us away from what we need. How it wants to hide the antidote from us. How it tricks and deceives. This is its greatest darkness. 

I could also just let him know I'm here. I see. I hurt. I care. Presence is often what is needed most in times of pain.

Maybe the best thing I did for my mom was to be there. To sit on that hospital bed at least once a week under fluorescent lights, feeling powerless.

Darkness cannot survive the light, so let’s start illuminating. This Mental Health Day, shine a light on mental illness where you can. If you sense it in yourself, seek help and tell a friend. If you see it in another, have a difficult conversation. Don’t hide. Make a connection. Not on facebook, but in real life. 

Be who you are, here and now.

Presence is light.


Photo by Daan Stevens on Unsplash


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Beauty in a Time of Dryness

Beauty in a Time of Dryness

These are dry times. Summer slips away faster than you can catch it – a dime down the drain. The sky hangs damp and icy today. Across the globe, powerful little men toy with the world’s future like it’s a game of chicken. Hurricanes have ravaged large parts of our earth. Families will suffer the effects for years to come. Terrorists won’t let London sleep. 

This planet can get so ugly. So broken. So disordered. So many of our mirrors are shattered.

There is order in beauty. A divine order, I believe, but whatever your theology you can feel it. The affirmation of disparate parts falling into place. 

Jennifer Berkenbosch’s Cultivar matters because the world needs beauty today. We need to be reminded that there is goodness. There is a solid bed beneath this wild river. 


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Big Top Awesome: Pam Baergen Enters The Cirque du Soleil 'Kurios' Cabinet

Big Top Awesome: Pam Baergen Enters The Cirque du Soleil 'Kurios' Cabinet

The first Cirque du Soleil performance I ever saw was “O”, at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. The show was massive, and it imprinted my mind with dream-like images of high-divers, a man on fire, and people floating away on hoops like weightless bubbles blown through a child's plastic wand. 

Cirque occupies its own genre of performing art, blending acrobatics, clowning, creative movement, live music, and spectacularly odd displays of talent. If you’ve ever witnessed a Cirque du Soleil performance, I'm sure you’ll agree that it is difficult to describe. If you haven’t seen a Cirque show yet (or if you are eager to see one again), now’s your chance: “Kurios: Cabinet of Curiosities” has set up a Big Top Tent in Northlands Park until August 13, just several blocks from the Bleeding Heart.


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Taken - A song for truth and reconciliation on National Indigenous Peoples Day

Taken - A song for truth and reconciliation on National Indigenous Peoples Day

Alana Levandoski is a member of our community with a powerful voice and a gift for songwriting. She's been giving those gifts back to community for a long while now, and this new lyric video and recording is a timely gift for those working towards truth and reconciliation on this, National Indigenous Peoples Day.


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Bleeding Heart Art Space is Saying Goodbye … And Hello

Bleeding Heart Art Space is Saying Goodbye … And Hello

In the category of ‘big news’, a move is about as big as it comes. After two and a half years at 9132 118th Ave, Bleeding Heart Art Space is moving. 

July 4 will be our final day at our current address. We will finish out the run of the beautiful and touching HOME exhibit, part of The Works Festival. Then we will say goodbye. 


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