For the love of (he)ART

I have participated in countless contests in my whole life: drawing, dictation, poetry, essay, short story, and Halloween costumes. My creation of the hour was selected mostly for the drawing contests from la Caisse Desjardins in elementary school and on a few occasions, for my Halloween costumes. As time went by, my work was no longer selected, especially not my writing, even though this is what I am most comfortable doing. The real prize that mattered was being able to find my voice by just publishing in a venue that became a home for my writing like the magazine at our medical society, without the bells and whistles. With time, I learned to do this more for the structure than the outcome. Winning became secondary. And I am so glad I made that shift. Recently, The House of Enchantments saw me in action as I tried to put together an assemblage for the Healing HeARTs gallery at my work. Every time I walk by the artwork when I go to the doctor's lounge to grab a yogurt or a fresh fruit, I marvel at the pieces and tell myself "I should do more art. I want to do more art !". This year was my chance. I had been thinking about that for weeks. Some ideas started to emerge. A couple of permutations later (initially I wanted to do a table like the one that appeared on the picture of my recent blog about dreams) and a few days before the submission deadline, I came up with a project I was happy with. Hours before the submission, revisiting my artist's statement, I was still measuring the thickness of the whole assemblage to make sure it was within the requirements. I was debating what to use as a mounting board. I went back and forth, opening countless cabinets, drawers and boxes in my house to find the necessary materials. I had a wonderful time taking picture after picture until I thought I had the light just right.

This assemblage represents a core value I hold so dear: interconnectedness through community, this shared and safe space that can buffer the illusion of separatedness (which is at the root of so many injustices and conflicts in our world). I come from Québec, a celebration-prone culture that is known for its hospitality and inclusiveness, where we are committed to give everyone "a place and a voice at the table". This work of art illustrates the values of inclusion and kindness, and the universal need to tell our stories, manifestations of our deep common thread as human beings. Through openness, gratitude and compassion, kindness is the main course of the soul on the tablecloth of interconnectedness. Pausing together for the intimate process of storytelling, expressing joy through a meal with tea allows a collective mindfulness practice that can expand awareness, abolish the "us-them" divide, and therefore become a healing force.

A few days ago, I got an email saying there were 125 submissions this year. My picnic setup for "The Interconnectedness Bookclub" was not selected to be displayed at the gallery. It didn't matter. If it had, it would have been a great bonus and wonderful news to share with all of you, who support me and my passions. It is still a tiny life experience I am glad I can share, because it is really about doing things for the fun of it. My aunt Marielle always thought I would become a maquettiste (model maker) one day because I always enjoyed playing with or arranging miniature items. And I still do. As a child, I was keeping those tiny umbrellas floating on exotic drinks. I used the white paper covers for glasses in hotel rooms to help my sons for their school projects. I still gather cork screws and other "disposable" items everywhere I go. I did numerous crafts and costumes with my boys and by myself. I turned some shoeboxes into dollhouses with my niece Niki. I kept a card that was from a fancy clothing store in London to make a door sign at my work (I was thrilled about my stationary-like find just as if I had bought a nice dress). I have a huge collection of pieces of fabric inherited from my grandmother (a talented seamstress who made marvels, including colorful quilts, out of what people would throw away nowadays). I kept mini dishes and dolls from various trips (Guatemala, India...). There are so many treasures of possibilities hidden in day-to-day objects. Some segments of my world might seem like they escaped a page of one of Joan Steiner's delightful "Look Alike Jr" books. Mixed media is my comfort zone when it comes to visual arts. For the gallery submission, I brought together wood, miniature ceramic, paper, lace, metal, glue, mini books, canvas. And the wigwam tablecloth comes from a wrapping of... camembert (Le Rustique) !

The framed assemblage of miniature items represents a meal-sharing set-up where diverse ideas, beliefs and emotions are welcome.

Even though my art won't be at the gallery this year, I was asked if it could be displayed on their upcoming website. With all my heart, I said yes, of course. For the love of art ! Vive les arts !

Car💗line