I Believe in Art Saints by Ana Flores - I know people who�ll make courageous innovative efforts to have art in their lives. They�ll eat peanut butter for a year in order to pay off an artist month by month for a piece they�ve bought. They believe art is necessary food for their soul. As an artist, I love these kind of people, I call them art saints and this year I�ve been lucky enough to have a few in my life. Andrew, a new friend, called last summer six weeks before his second marriage to speak to my husband and me. �Friends keep asking us about a wedding registry and Megan and I�ve decided we don�t need another blender so we�d like to list your web sites as our registry. With the funds collected we�ll commission a work by each of you. What do you think?� I paused, stunned. �We�d love to create pieces for your new home and what a great idea- registering with artists instead of pottery barn!� Over the next three months fourteen friends registered and a �village� of patrons blossomed ea- ger to see the work we�d make for the unique spaces that he and Megan had designed together. Luli is another saint. �I�d rather invest in something I love rather than the stock market,�she told me as we sat in her terraced garden. She�d spent a decade transforming this overgrown hillside along the Hudson River. �I want to see one of your pieces there�. She pointed to a space be- tween two trees. �The cost of bronze is like gold these days.� I warned. She was unfazed, excited instead by the prospect of watching the sculpture grow. Unfortunately there�s not enough saints to go around for so many artists, but an art collecting idea I learned about when we lived in New Zealand might offer a template for collecting on tight budgets. While there I met the Stitchbury club, fifteen women from Auckland whose focus was contemporary three dimensional work ranging from jewelry to outdoor sculpture. Each contributed a set amount annually to their art bank. Every month - like a book group�they ga
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Go Within, Reveal, and Inspire Others
A flower from my garden is the symbol I chose to represent my spirituality. The dirt and the roots gives me a feeling of being grounded, connected to the earth. The flower reaches up to God - opening to the radiance of love. I feel close to God when I am in my garden witnessing the miracles and the cycles of life - seeding, nurturing, growing, fading away, resting, rebirth.
This I Believe REVEALED Jim Stahl Interview
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MmrObFL6nbk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1]
THIS I BELIEVE REVEALED subject Jim Stahl discusses the impact this project has had on him personally, creatively and professionally.
WRNI's (Rhode Island's National Public Radio) This I Believe -- Rhode Island and Scott Indermaur's REVEALED are two projects that have been easily merged and complement each other to create the project THIS I BELIEVE REVEALED. This collaboration makes an even greater impression and impact on Rhode Islanders through print, radio and photography that create a unique and multi-dimensional experience and personal connection for the audience. Their essays may also be heard at WRNI's website. Jim Stahls essay aired on WRNI in January 2010.
The collaboration features the essays of Rhode Islanders who share the core values that guide their daily lives and those individuals sharing those core values as REVEALED subjects. The result is a powerful combination of creativity, words and photography.
This project is made possible in part by a grant from the Rhode Island State Council on the Arts, through an appropriation by the Rhode Island General Assembly and a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts.
Revealed Presentation at The Met - 02/26/10
The box could not hold it all, so I brought a box of my own: a Hercules Gunpowder Box, a fitting repository for my spirit. The plants are from my garden, my solace, my center, my place to connect to the bounty and wonder of the Universe. I filled my box with old wounds, many half-healed. Even as I stand under the lights, my back aches from the car crash. I question myself and my right to be here. I question my creative fire. But on top of it all is a small wooden box, carved by my brother out of a single chunk of cedar. He carved it for me when I was young and full of boundless rage � some of it directed at him. He carved it with love, as an act of contrition that I did not come to fully understand until years after he had died. It is the most precious thing I own, this box. It represents hope and compassion for the wounded parts of me. ~Stephen R.