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.
These summer days, when we might afford appointments with poetry, I encourage you to pick up Fueston's Visitations, which you can order from Finishing Line Press here. You may be lucky enough, like I have been, to sense the intimate embrace of God reaching through the text. You may, like me, want to breathe the words in and then exhale them slowly. You may, like me, find life here.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
Recently, I had the privilege of joining a dozen fine folks at King's Fold Retreat Centre, just outside of Cochrane, Alberta, for a weekend of faith and art. Julie and Sam Drew have been leading Art: Vocabulary for the Soul workshops for a number of years and I cannot imagine a better place to put creatives in touch with their Creator.
This weekend was a reminder to me of the beauty of every creative soul, the power of art to reach beneath the surface of things, and the majesty of creation itself. I'm grateful for all of those who shared some of their stories with me on the weekend, and for every act of creation I got to witness. One of my responses was to take photos. A lot of photos. I've whittled them down, somewhat, here.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
If you find yourself with a bit of free time–or need an excuse for one more vacation day–check out these workshop opportunities. Some opportunities are free and all will send you home having made or experienced something special.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
The following poem has been graciously shared by Heather Seargeant, a participant at the recent Art: Vocabulary For The Soul Retreat held at King's Fold in June.
The retreat was a journey taken in community, and as we gathered to share where we'd been led throughout the weekend, Heather shared this new poem. I asked her if I could share it with you, as I believe it calls us toward to Sacred Small–toward the great gift of attention we can offer to the world and one another.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
Tomorrow, with the closing of WHAT BERNICE SEES, we'll have finished our first full season in our 118th ave home. A full season, for us, aligns with the school year (because everyone deserves summers off!)
Summer gives us some time to retool, retouch and reconfigure. This summer will bring some major Bleeding Heart upgrades, both made possible by some beautiful generosity on behalf of Daniel van Heyst and King's University, where van Heyst teaches art. So first and foremost, thank you Daniel, and thank you King's.
Our summer makeover will enable us to show more work, and to show that work more professionally.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
I don't worry about my websites anymore. It's freeing. I'd like to share that freedom with you.
I want you to realise you can have a website without pulling out your hair.
I want you to know you can get someone else to worry about the nerdy bits, the code-writing, the security threats. The why-is-your-website-down questions from fans and friends.
I want you to have a simple, professional website that you can manage yourself so that you don't have to pay someone like me every time you want to add a blog post or a photo of a new piece.
All of this is possible. Since I cracked open a book and got to work writing website code, the world has changed. There are a lot of great options that allow you to (A) have a great looking website and (B) not go bankrupt or crazy keeping it up to date.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
OK. It's zero hour. Time to get final details sorted for Bridge Songs TEN. We still need plenty of volunteer help and volunteers get in free!
There are plenty of shifts available, ranging from set up to tear down to hanging a show to gallery hosting to food service or cleanup. Or ticket taking.
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 began with a small group of singer-songwriters wanting to get their songs out to the community, so an open stage feels like the right way to end.
Musicians, writers, storytellers and entertainers of all skill and kind are invited. We want to give YOU the last word at Bridge Songs TEN.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
I've known Edmonton artist Alexis Marie-Chute for a long, long time. In fact, one of her art-school pieces was the first piece of art my wife and I bought. Like, with actual money.
Since then I've watched Chute tackle nearly every medium as her art has pulled her through some devastating times.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
We are in a living room playing music for each other. 8 of us or so. Each time I hear one of these friends play a song, I get a peek into their heart. I see something–hear something–I didn't know was there.
We meet for weeks like this, sharing new songs and with them a part of our souls. We cry. We heal. We come together because we are all attending the same small church of 40 or 50 people and looking for a way to sing songs that don't belong in a church service. We are making music together and making connections, and we want to share all of this with the rest of our community.
The idea is called Bridge Songs. It will be a collection of songs from Urban Bridge Church.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
