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.
Tania Runyan is leading our poetry workshop at Small, Slow & Beautiful this summer, and I encourage you to join her. She is a fantastic writer, and this Easter poem proves it.
While Christmas is for greeting cards, Easter is for poets. May these words enrich your own experience of Easter's Holy mysteries.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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This June, from 24th to the 26th, a small group of creative souls will gather in the mountains at a hidden oasis called King's Fold. There will be riverside strolls. There will be fireside chats. There will be Southern Alberta beauty in every direction, and perhaps a few wildlife sightings. There will be, I'm told, very good food.
Most importantly, there will be opportunity to explore and expand your creative soul. Vocabulary for the Soul retreats have been running for some time now and I'm honoured to join veteran leaders Julie Drew and Sam Drew for this weekend retreat to focus on the 'thin places' where faith and art interact. Perhaps dance is a better word. Or blend. Or weave. Or harmonize.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
Is it a good idea to let people colour all over the walls?
I trust it will be worth it–something in my gut tells me that–but is it wise?
I'm wrestling with this Saturday morning, just before we open Borys Tarasenko's Sweet Jesus at the Bleeding Heart Art Space.
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I’m Dave Von Bieker, a singer-songwriter who has learned the immeasurable value of connecting my creativity to my spirituality. I’m looking forward to focussing on both this June in the mountains, and I’d like to invite you to join me
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Where there should be peace, there is a well-curated chaos inside me. Tis' the season.
But it is not that season. Not examined deeply. Not through the ages. It is Advent. A season of longing. Waiting. This Sunday, specifically, we are waiting for peace.
Peace through the dark anniversaries of lost love ones. Peace as a friend processes a cancer diagnosis. Peace as the walls come down and debris gets loaded into the truck and you realize you lost the keys to said truck. Peace as 14 people get shot in an American social care agency. Peace as dozens more are killed in bombings almost daily. Peace through the bad news playlist of radioland.
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Re-entry used to be the worst.
At home, you’ll be going to bed too late and waking up too early to work again too soon, seeing as how you squeezed every last moment of sweetness out of this vacation.
This used to be my story. I used to feel a hollow terror in my chest as I headed backward to home. But not lately. Not this time.
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Artist, who are you?
What do you have to give?
Can you answer?
We are waiting for your strange and beautiful shimmer. Will you shine for us?
Perhaps you don’t feel shiny today. Perhaps you don’t know how to peel back your skin for the gold beneath.
Perhaps there is too much noise for you to hear your heartbeat.
“The present state of the world, the whole of life, is diseased.
If I were a doctor and were asked for my advice, I would reply:
‘Create silence! Bring men to silence.
The Word of God cannot be heard in the noisy world of today.
Create silence.'”
Enter Lent.
For artists, Lent is a journey well worth taking. A journey towards something powerful.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
