She Spoke to me

Today I woke up with an incredible feeling running through the whole existence of myself. The experience of last night happening persisted; evoking sensation of power. She Spoke was a special, one-night art event designed to create connections between art, artist and audience. Six female artists came from all over the world to exhibit their fantastic pieces of work. Far away from any typical opening or vernissage. Far away from the usual.

The conversations based on direct and thoughtful questions were the key to mutual understanding. The artists made me think of what I looked at in different and in depth way. Yes, the artists, not only the art itself. The intimate discussion with each of the artist herself let me understand her thinking, her creative process, what the art represents and how it actually came to life. Was the creation spontaneous or conceptual? Is it free or bound? Is the art and its creator vulnerable or confident? Is the approach traditional, free-form or unconventional? What were her emotions then, and what are my emotions now? How does she feel and how do I feel?

The point of sharing this is not to bring you the answers. Because my answers would be mediated. And that's exactly what this carefully designed event avoided, to let everyone connect in his/her own way. So the point is to celebrate the event itself. To celebrate we can experience art through direct and long conversation with the artist about it. Or about something else that joins her with her creation, her life, her experience. What inspires her. How it will inspire me later on... And lastly to celebrate the artists being given a great opportunity for direct opinions, feelings and emotions their work raise in the audience.

Becoming Artists Art Movement founded and led by Jessica Serran, made the She Spoke event happen. And I am very grateful I experienced it. Thank you, Maryanne Hawes, Isabelle Rizo, Yasmin Lambie-Simpson, Deborah Taylor, Sheila Metcalf Tobin, and Chantelle Goldthwaite, that magical powerful feeling still persist in me.