I almost forgot why I love Alberta Avenue. Then I went to this event.

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes. - Marcel Proust


Last Saturday I discovered a great new neighbourhood. Again.

I took the kids on the six-block-walk to 118th Ave to experience the 'Rising Up’ Pop-Up Market. This annual event is a new initiative from the Alberta Avenue Business Association to drive customers to shop The Ave. 

I’ve spent a lot of time on The Ave, but along only a small section of it – from The Carrot at 94th street and the four blocks orbiting that spot. Oh, and Batista’s Calzones, of course, way down on 84th street. But between 84th and 90th, I haven’t ventured far. But between 84th and 80th was right where the action was on Saturday.

My experience Saturday reminds me what makes Alberta Avenue uniquely beautiful. It’s not the artists–but the intangible quality that draws the artists in. It is down-to-earth humility. It is unassuming authenticity. It is interesting, kaleidoscopic diversity. It is cheap rent.

And so you find mom-and-pop shops that may not be sustainable in other places. Doors to these shops are most often closed, and the timid are unlikely to investigate. The timid like myself. For those of us on the outside of ethnic communities or specialty niches, the front door is a thin barrier reinforced by fear. Assumptions. Perhaps stereotypes. Or the unknown. But on Saturday, those doors were flung open.

Business owners set up tables to hand out business cards, free gifts and food samples. Ethiopian flat bread. Cooked cabbage. Delicious cake. Papusas. Spices. Fried rice. All so good. All so interesting. 

This special day, shops are open for tours. The boxing club is nowhere near as scary–or dingy–as I imagined. I can almost picture myself wandering inside another day to watch two trainees sparring in the practice ring. 

I discover a tailor, and if I need a tailor, why not this local option? I look into the long, crowded corridor of the cobbler, who must have been in this space for decades. I have friendly conversations with the owners of the hip-hop clothing store, where I’m not likely to shop due to personal style choices. 

The kids feel welcome and safe. They have fun. There are balloon animals. My son gets an elaborate alien, propped on his shoulders in a permanent piggyback. There is free face painting. 

Then there is one standout moment.

Ahead of a line up of kids, two men, looking homeless, are getting their faces painted. Most adults would at least wait for the kids to go first, since this tent is clearly for kids. Most face painters would politely tell these men to wait their turn, or that there is no turn for them here. But not on The Ave. On The Ave, these men get their faces painted. Free. Just like everyone else. And they are having fun.

This festival is not flashy. It is not that impressive, except for the roving mariachi band and the young, long-haired busker tap dancing over a looped guitar riff. The kids and I have a great time. Likely the best time of any festival this summer so far. We feel comfortable. We feel home

The Avenue is not tidy. It is not commercialized. It is not big-boxed or hipsterized. It may be all of those things one day. But today, it is a place where a man can still fix shoes for a living. Today, on Alberta Avenue, you can share free pancakes with folks heading to the Hope Mission later on.  And then with a young couple who have just moved into the neighbourhood for the positive vibe.

Alberta Avenue is ragged, diverse and surprising. It is beautiful and inspiring. It is authentic and refreshing. It is aware of it’s brokenness and full of a real, hardy hope for healing. And that, I think, is why Jesus likes it here so much. It is a bit like the Kingdom coming.

Alberta Avenue is a place where, thanks to Saturday’s event, I’ll be doing more business.


Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Support Bibliotheca: A Beautiful New Bible Reading Experience on Kickstarter

Sometimes you see an idea so good you just want to pull out your credit card with a resounding 'YES!'

I predict that response from many Bleeding Heart supporters. 

BIBLIOTHECA is a custom designed, hard-bound Bible-as-set-of-books whose Kickstarter funding has gone through the roof. 

If you want to experience the Bible in this new (old) way, you have until Sunday to get your name in for one of these signed, first edition sets.



Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Share Your Favourite Art Experience This Summer [ArtsTalk Tuesday]

It feels like summer is just getting started. But it isn't. The calendar has a different opinion. According to those little squares, we're almost halfway through. School supply flyers are on their way.

Rather than fret, let us take a moment to reflect. To expand time through memory. To count our blessings.

What has been your most memorable art experience, so far, this summer?

Have you witnessed beauty on the other end of the earth? Has it been right here in your own backyard? High art? Folk art? Sight or sound? Planned or pop up.

Close your eyes. Recall that powerful encounter with the arts, just days or weeks ago. Then write about it in the comments below. If appropriate, its ok to brag a little.

Grow the experience by sharing it.


Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Why I Practice Shutdown Sundays

Most Sundays, a tumbleweed blows through my digital life. The Bleeding Heart twitter feed is eerily silent. My Facebook page gathers cobwebs. My email goes (the audacity!) unanswered. 

It’s not because I’m lazy. 

On Sundays, I unplug. And it is good for me.

I don’t unplug because someone told me to. I unplug because my soul is crying out for rest and a slowing down. I unplug, for just one day a week, because I can.

You see, most days, like so many of you, I spend many of my precious moments scrolling through feeds of messages and tweets and photos. Keeping in touch with personal and public news. Painting a pretty picture of myself across the digital canvas. Pixel by pixel, I exert my existence online. 

But, unlike the mere act of breathing that keeps me connected to the real world, this digital breathing takes intention. It takes upkeep. The digital me is constantly selective and ridiculously self-aware.

When I am 'being myself' online, I am not really myself. I am some other, constructed self. And that takes work.

The cycle of propping up my digital persona for the world to see is exhausting friends.

There are benefits to social media, don’t get me wrong. I have made and maintained relationships digitally that would have disappeared any other way. I have discovered great restaurants and festivals. I have heard it through the grape vine. But good as connectivity can be, it is tiring.

Soul-tiring.

I am a firm believer in peak soul.

You’ve heard of peak oil? As I understand it, Peak Oil is a tipping point where we begin to use more oil than we can possibly replace. We begin to deplete our resources, perhaps irrevocably. We begin to be in real trouble. Some say this is a future event. Some say it has already happened.

What if our souls have a peak? What if our bodies can bear more than our souls? 

We know that sometimes, in intense circumstances, it is the spirit that breaks first. Think sensory deprivation or solitary confinement. Think the dark depths of total nihilism. Think loneliness and depression. Think fear. Our bodies may have years left, but our spirits can only stretch so thin. Then they hit peak soul. Then they snap.

"That's how thresholds work:”, writes Bill McKibben in his prophetic book, Enough, "up to a certain point something is good, and past that point there's trouble. One beer is good; two beers may be better; eight beers you're almost certainly going to regret. If you drive your car at 55 miles per hour, you'll get where you're going faster than if you drive it at 20 miles per hour–but if you drive it at 155 miles per hour, odds are you're going to die in a ditch."

What if our bodies–even our brains–can continue to go faster and farther, but we outstrip our souls with speed and distance? What if the constant push for more is simply more than a spirit can bear.

And in a world that is sort of doubtful about souls in the first place, how will we ever notice until it is too late.

Hear my barbaric YOP! 

Before you strap a smart watch to your wrist or see the world through Google-coloured glasses, consider the still and silent soul.

Because we can do more, we assume we should. But should we? Ever and all ways?

And if we think we’ve had enough, how do we turn back the tide? How do we subvert the system, one small choice at a time?

There is one choice that predates social media by millennia. It is Rest. It is Sabbath.

It’s an old story–the very start of the Biblical narrative. God takes a rest after six long days of making every thing. The seventh day, God rests.  

Remember the Sabbath day, we are told. Perhaps we are warned. Perhaps the Maker of our souls knows their edges. Perhaps he knows we are able to handle many fewer relationships than our friend feed can hold. 

This day of rest is one of the 10 Commandments. It is important.

Less and less of us are taking days off, it seems.

I was just in a conversation about overtime being the rule, and not the exception. Workers with two jobs are complaining if they don’t get overtime shifts.  Less of who do take breaks are taking time away from technology. We are mistaking social media as a salve for our weary souls

Less of us are taking time to unplug from the virtual landscape and enjoy the landscapes of this Good Earth–time to plug into the touch and feel world of face to face relationships.

When was the last time you sat in silence for more than 5 minutes? 

The answer gets more disturbing when you realize what so often rises up from that quiet and calm inner well. Peace. Courage. Creativity. Vision. Resolve. Forgiveness. Reconciliation. Love.

Are these not the very things your soul longs for? They are my own hopes. They are seldom delivered to me by technology.

What is a Shutdown Sunday?

For me, a Shutdown Sunday means I don’t check Twitter, or Facebook, or email. Usually, I don't play video games. Sometimes I don't watch movies or TV.  I will break the email rule of I am expecting something urgent, or have to get in touch with someone right away.

It is hard not to check social media when that red dot displays the number of people with new content for me to devour. I will likely start turning notifications off on Sundays, too.

The exact day is not important. But taking a day, regularly, is.

It is a little push back. A little way to keep in check. A little space to breathe.

I try and notice what changes when I practice this discipline. 

Yesterday, I read a rich book. I organized my mess of Evernote tags. I stained a picnic table. I visited with my mom. I didn’t rush away from church. I didn’t stay up too late. I worked out. I cleaned the house. I watched the K-Day’s Fireworks with my wife. Each one of these things delivered goodness to me that I do not find in technology.

What is Your Own Cyber-Sabbath?

Where does technology snatch up your time? Is it Facebook? Video games? TV? Netflix? 

How is your inner well these days? Are you near peak soul?

Are you full, or empty? Are you growing, or shrinking? Is your soul getting enough green, leafy vegetables?

I am challenging you to disconnect once a week.

The challenge has 3 parts.

  1. Turn off for a day. Just 1 day. Every week. 
  2. Take 10 minutes to sit in silence on that day. In the morning before the kids wake up. In the evening after everyone is asleep. On a walk to the grocery store. On a drive across town. 
  3. Tell me what happens. Comment here. Email me at dave@bleedingheartartspace.com. Tweet, facebook, etc. Hashtag #ShutdownSunday. Just not on your day :)

Now, ssshhhhhh.

Listen close.

I think I hear something.

What could it be?







 


Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Photos from Bridge Songs: Dear Edmonton,

Bridge Songs: Dear Edmonton brought together more than 30 artists (visual, musicians, writers) to create and share work about our fair city. It was a great evening, captured on camera by the fine folks at #WEAREYEG, and Aaron Maxwell Vanimere, to whom we are ever so grateful.


Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Sneak a Peek at Our Bookshelf

Bleeding Heart recently joined Pinterest. I was a hold out, but as it is such a visual network, and we are kind of into this whole art thing, it just made sense.

Sometimes you don't know how you will use something best until you start. One of my favourite uses of our new Pinterest profile is the growing Bookshelf, where I share all my favourite reads on art, faith, hope and love. 

Have a look-see here, and add your suggestions in the comments below. I won't just add willy-nilly, but I'm open. I've only got so much space on this antique mahogany shelving unit, so I want to curate wisely.



Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Photos of Magic at Borden Park

Borden Park is getting a facelift, and I am loving it. A couple of months back these strange structures started popping up all over the place. How could I help but snap some shots?

Have you been yet? What's your favourite part?


Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.

Bridge Songs 2015 Will Be Perfict

Well artist friends, this is the big official blog announcement!

Our theme for Bridge Songs 2015 is "Perfict"

What's that all about, you ask? Well, perfection is fiction.

Perfict GIF.gif

Got you mulling? Call for submissions coming this fall!



Blog for Bleeding Heart!

You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.