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.
Are you an artist?
I am a lot of things. So are you.
You might be a dog-lover or an avid reader. An extrovert, nature-lover or traveller.
But are you an artist?
Of course you are. But precious few of us would ever describe ourselves that way.
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
It's 8:15. The show starts at 8:30 but doors were at 8:00. Besides us three performers, there are seven people in the room. Three of them work here. Two more are related to me. The soundman asks when we want to start. "8:30", I tell him. His eyes shift around the empty room (the big empty room), then back to me. "So, 15 minutes?" he asks with a tone that states the obvious. "Yeah" I answer, my confidence rapidly leaking out onto the just-swept floor.
Uggh.
This story is hard for me to tell. It gets at the sick heart of my weakness. I am telling you how I feel failure
You have something to say–why not say it here? Email your blog post idea to dave@bleedingheartart.space and let's chat.
