How Can Art Be Healing

--- A test says my spiritual age is 108 years old and my psychological age 48,

— A test says my spiritual age is 108 years old and my psychological age 48,

 

For once, let me pretend to be that skeptical 108-year-old lady, who doesn’t care about national boundaries, religion, politics, class, race, color, language, gender and age. Pretend that this is self-experimentation. You open up to yourself in the dark. Your body melts into nothingness and your soul wanders freely. If you see your true self floating like a white dot, you might appreciate art. If art is the ultimate lifestyle of human beings, art is universal.
---"Layers of Us", Shanghai, 2019.11.29 | 《层次不同的我们》摄于上海

—“Layers of Us”, Shanghai, 2019.11.29 | 《层次不同的我们》摄于上海

---"Shades of Us", Shanghai, 2019.11.29 | 《深浅不一的我们》摄于上海

—“Shades of Us”, Shanghai, 2019.11.29 | 《深浅不一的我们》摄于上海

 

That skeptical 108-year-old lady is fascinated by anything relating to people, like human touch and human nature. She believes that knowing what we are is essential for knowing what art is, and reflecting on what we’ve gone through is necessary for reflecting on why art is powerful. She also believes that understanding hurt people with empathy is helpful in understanding what healing is, and exploring the true self is vital in exploring how art can be healing. 

 

---The Healing Art Exhibition, 2019.11.16 | 平生第一个艺术展

—The Healing Art Exhibition, 2019.11.16 | 平生第一个艺术展

 

WHAT IS ART?

 

Wikipedia says, “Art is a diverse range of human activities in creating visual, auditory or performing artifacts, expressing the author’s imaginative, conceptual ideas, or technical skill, intended to be appreciated for their beauty or emotional power.” But what do the illiterate farmers and that skeptical 108-year-old lady think of art?
---Sold, 2019.11.19 | 已售

—Sold, 2019.11.19 | 已售

 

Like my father, farmers might say art is bullshit. For they don’t have the concept of art and so understand life more pragmatically. However, that skeptical 108-year-old lady thinks art is everywhere, even in the hands of the farmers. She thinks farmers have been creating natural artworks in all seasons, such as cultivating rice terraces, without learning about art. She thinks farmers lack knowledge but not feelings, they lack opportunities but not talent. She sees art as the unseen turmoil behind happiness or beauty before chaos.
---Available, 2019.12.02 | 可出售

—Available, 2019.12.02 | 可出售

 

WHY IS ART POWERFUL?

 

Someone once said, “Of all the things in the world, I’d argue that Art, in its many forms, is the most inspirational. Art has a phenomenal ability to make us feel understood, empowered, and less alone.” And that skeptical 108-year-old lady would agree, art dominates her life.

 

---Sold, 2019.11.19 | 已售

—Sold, 2019.11.23 | 已售

 

WHAT IS HEALING?

 

Healing is not treatment but the process of transformation: facing our true selves, seeing the emotions and limitations that our past experiences have brought us, and then returning to a naturally happy state of life. Dr. Dipak once said: “When we can uncover our heart and allow the light of happiness to shine, healing is taking place.“

 

---Available, 2019.12.02 | 可出售

—Available, 2019.12.02 | 可出售

 

HOW CAN ART BE HEALING?

 

We all have unresolved wounds or traumas. When we are unbalanced, diseased, damaged or spiritless, how can art help heal us?
---Available, 2019.12.02 | 可出售

—Available, 2019.12.02 | 可出售

 

For me, there seemed always an inner drive forcing me to act. When I couldn’t breathe, I took a walk. When I felt trapped in a tiny square, I went traveling. When I felt lost, I reminded myself to connect with people around me and so reconnect with my self. When I felt empty or horny, I fed my stomach or pleased my body. When I saw a beautiful pattern from a tangled mess, I would smile to add motion to it with my imagination. You might ask, where does such inner drive come from? Well, listen to your inner voice. Be self-aware. Be mindful. Be calm.
---Sold, 2019.11.19 | 已售

—Sold, 2019.11.28 | 已售

---Special wooden box package for shipment, 2019.11 | 个性特制木箱装运

—Special wooden box package for shipment, 2019.11 | 个性特制木箱装运

 

IINNOO GALLERY & ELEVATE

 

Once I had this crazy idea to call for an artist like those who called for a marriage in the blind date corners. It impulsively moved me to Shanghai, where I met many artists from many countries. Every time when I visited a gallery or a museum, I felt safe and alive. When having someone to talk to or to listen to, I felt loved. Gratefully, IINNOO Gallery is like my mother bringing me to this art world and Elevate my father watering me to grow. 
---IINNOO Team @ Exhibition: Infinite Repetition, IINNOO Gallery, 2019.03.01 | 《无限循环》开幕展小组合照@黑白之中画廊

—IINNOO Team @ Exhibition: Infinite Repetition, IINNOO Gallery, 2019.03.01 | 《无限循环》开幕展小组合照@黑白之中画廊

---With Elevate Team @ Exhibition: Confront Abstraction, 1929 Art Space, 2019.11.02 | 《抽象对峙》开幕展上与阿黎微忑小组合影@1929艺术空间

—With Elevate Team @ Exhibition: Confront Abstraction, 1929 Art Space, 2019.11.02 | 《抽象对峙》开幕展上与阿黎微忑小组合影@1929艺术空间

 

December 7th, ELEVATE will be hosting a whole day of events at one of the biggest and best theatres in town. And I’m very happy to be involved.
WeChat Image_20191203002038WeChat Image_20191203002047
Note: To build a mutual Literature & Art community, Heather has now opened her personal channel (WeChat ID: Heather69) to her fans, who are following HeathersChamber. No cheaters!
Last article 上一篇:  My Very First Publication | 平生第一次出版
About Heather Cai:
Heather Cover
Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently teaching kids chess in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.
Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者蔡太莲所有!

 


Follow HeathersChamber for more original poems, essays, prose, drawings and pictures
                                关注阿太的密室,订阅更多原创诗歌、散文、随笔、画画和图片
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Drawing#70: Cry

 

 

Cry

“I’m worth more dead than alive.

Don’t cry for me after I’m gone;

cry for me now.

–  Marlene Dietrich-

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#69: Hatred

 

Hatred

“Years of love have been forgot

In the hatred of a minute.

–  Edgar Allan Poe –

“IT IS BETTER TO BE HATED FOR WHAT YOU ARE THAN

TO BE LOVED FOR WHAT YOU ARE NOT.”

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#68: Singer

 

“The best advice I can give a young aspiring singer is not to become an old aspiring singer.

– – Renata Scotto

“There are a lot of aspiring singers who are not to be paid attention to because they don’t look like a fashion model.

– – Linda Ronstadt

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#67: Butterfly

 

Butterfly

“The fluttering of a butterfly’s wings can effect climate changes on the other side of the planet.

– – Paul Erlich

“I would like to think that the singer is the butterfly, and the drummer was just the little grub in the ground, working to become a caterpillar.

– – Robert Wyatt

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#66: Stranger

 

Stranger

“From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents – Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.

– – Jane Austen

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#65: Freedom

 

Freedom

Freedom

“FREEDOM IS

WHAT YOU DO

WITH WHAT’S

BEEN DONE TO

YOU.

– – Jean-Paul Sarte (French Philosopher,1905-1980)

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#64: Incarnation

 

Incarnation

“When writers die they become books,

which is, after all,

not too bad an incarnation.

– – Jorge Luis Borges

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#63: Dying

 

Dying

“I’D RATHER BE DEAD THAN DYING.

– – STEPHEN EVANS

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading

Drawing#62: Headache

 

Headache

“If the headache would only

precede the intoxication,

alcoholism would be a virture.

– – Samuel Butler

 


From now on, I’ll post my drawings weekly, or maybe twice a week. To share the below auto-biographic stories, I’ll keep being creative, transforming my thoughts into words and images.

I started school when I was ten. In primary school, there was no lessons other than Maths and Chinese. The rest were merely reading on your own and doing homework. So basically, I had to skip the rest of the classes to do housework or farmwork. And the teacher used charcoal to write on the wooden board. Not to mention that I never owned any proper paper. One evening after dinner, I invited my best playmate to visit my room. We sat up on the bed face to face, looking into each other. Then we came up with an idea to draw each other’s face. So we used the back page of my Chinese and Math books, which were blank and white. In the end, we looked again and again at the drawings, laughing with pride. Too bad, soon the pictures faded away naturally. Now the drawn face has become vague, but the memory of my very first drawing with a pencil is still vivid. Continue reading