This video was put together by my neighbour and friend, Ian Stephens. We had a lot of fun searching for places to display art at the farm one beautiful June evening. When shooting the “art show” parts of the video, we had not anticipated noisy preparations for the July 1 parade just outside our door. That added to the fun. I am grateful to Ian for taking the time and using his considerable gifts to help me share my art in this way.

“exploring the Four Directions”, watercolour, 20″ x 20″

Left to right: Birds on Fire, Sampler Dragon, Rain Dancer, Peaks

If you don’t mind stairs, I’d like to invite you to climb some with me. Just one set.  I am curious. A sign made of two pieces of sample flooring on the street advertises Freestyle Art and Supplies. Handmade signs guide me as I go up the stairs and around a corner, through the magic door, and voilà – I find myself in an emporium of light, colour and baskets of colourful wires, feathers, bottle caps, wool, sticks, hockey sticks, papers, old CD’s – you name it, Freestyle Art and Supplies has it! I feel immediately at home. I want to do a happy dance all around the battered art tables! There is so much to look at. It is like the best kind of candy store suggesting all kinds of creative and intriguing possibilities. Here, in this magical place, the dreamchild of Swift Current artist and social entrepreneur Nancy Currie, creative transformation happens every day. Nancy collects things that no one else wants, and provides a space for anyone to come and transform these scraps, left overs and rejected bits and pieces into beauty!! (To read more about Freestyle, check out Matthew Liebenberg’s article in Swift Current’s Prairie Post.)

Photo of the irrepressible Nancy Currie by Matthew Liebenberg, Prairie Post, used with permission

Nancy also invites artists, from near and far, to offer PLAYshops and workshops and share their skills with anyone who would like to come. Since she opened Freestyle in November 2015, guest artists have included Megan Currie (floral beading and painting your spirit animal), Trea Jensen (watercolours, watercolour mandalas, wire sculptures and wire and fabric), Orla Moen (geli printing) and regular Friday night artist Blinddog.

art by Blinddog

Imagine this – that a small city like Swift Current has a space created especially for bringing people together to transform stuff – rejected stuff – into art.

Nancy – displaying her courage and pluck

I like to think of how important it is to follow through on a vision  and create space like this. It takes courage and pluck and commitment. I watched a group of 9 to 11 year olds come in. They had arrived for a PLAYshop but they really didn’t need one – they were so enchanted with all the stuff everywhere, with the colour and possibilities and they could not stop looking. Those kids could have “freestyled” all afternoon. Freestyle Art and Supplies is a visual smorgasbord.

I like to think about how the visible spaces we create on the outside can nurture the space we all carry and hold in our insides.

A few examples:

I used to work in a community room in a busy school. Often we were creating art and there was art all around the room. Students would come in burned out, tired, discouraged and accept a cup of tea and a quiet place just to be. They would observe the hum of creative activity around them. More often than not, they would eventually  pick up a paintbrush or a pencil and begin the healing act of creating something themselves. I often wondered if an art table, an artist and chairs and supplies for others to create were put in the foyer of a busy high school,  would that change that particular space? Almost certainly!!

For years, I created art at the kitchen table or in a corner of our livingroom or bedroom or on the floor. Art supplies were tucked in the corner of just about every room in the house. Some months ago, our youngest daughter moved out, cleared out her room and said, “Mum, this room can be your studio.” It is. What a gift!! Each morning, I walk upstairs in wonder that I have a whole dedicated room to creating art. I have had many happy moments around my small table alone or with one or two others playing with paper or paint. Our whole house has changed because of this one space. The space inside me has changed because of this room!

Moving away from art spaces for a moment, I think of my first overnight visit to the Qu’Appelle House of Prayer where I was encouraged and supported to spend time in silence. In our hectic world, I felt in awe that such a place existed. Glenn, one of the co-directors , even makes a point of filling bird feeders at lunch so as not to intrude on the solitude one finds in their small cabins in the woods. To find a place which honours quiet, “useless sitting” and being still in a world which can be noisy, busy and over full seemed to me to be a miracle. This beautiful place honoured my need for space within myself.

Whether we are creating a space to create art or a place to be still or a garden of beauty and wonder, it matters not. Such spaces invite us to STOP, to take notice, to step out of our day to day rhythms.

My ideal world has an art table around every corner – in midst of a busy day of shopping, for example, I like to imagine an art table. I sit down, begin to create something with my hands and my entire body settles down. I slow down. In the grocery store, just behind the baked goods, an art table. I have just enough time to do a Zentangle. In the process, I know exactly what we should have for supper and I continue my shopping. In a public park, on a beautiful day…an art table… where seniors can chat with families, where people of all ages can respond  and celebrate to the beauty around.

I am grateful to Nancy Currie, and the surprising  and inviting space she has carved out in Swift Current. It makes a difference to me…it makes a difference to the world. What follows are photos of those who came and enjoyed this space, and whose  wonderful spirit enlarged Nancy’s dream.

This post has been reposted from Sister Triangle Magazine

Pablo Picasso said, “All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” I would say the same about “play”. All children have a natural ability to play – the question is – how do we keep the spirit of play alive in ourselves once we are adults?”

Let me come clean. I am an amateur artist, and I love to create art with others. Art, for me, is a form of play, exploration, expression, sheer fun, and prayer. Weaving these passions together, I offer art PLAYshops – a variant of “workshops” where I gently guide people as they paint with watercolours or create paper collages.

My passion for play goes back a long time. As a child, I loved putting on plays, dressing up, creating fairy homes in gardens, drawing, writing books, making up mysteries to solve, and building tree forts. When I grew up, I never lost my need for play and mischief, but found that this did not always fly well in the adult world of work. When I fell in love with a grain farmer, I found myself living in a community where the protestant work ethic was alive and well. While people did take time out to play, they often “played hard” (curling, baseball, fowl suppers). My own deep desire for play, whimsy, fun, and creativity seemed – well frivolous, selfish, and entirely beside the point.

For many years, raising four children, living as a farm wife with a job off the farm and volunteer commitments, I often felt as if my list of “to do’s” was on a never-ending toilet roll. As soon as I ticked a few “to do’s” off my list, more would race in to take their place. I often had no inner space to listen to the “still small voice” within. But when I did, the message was clear. Spend time in nature. Keep creating art. Nurture and celebrate your playful spirit. Take time to notice. These are essential to your well-being, as necessary as breath.

In time, both circumstances and shifts in my own priorities began to give me the “space” I needed to create art. There were still voices in my head telling me to do something more useful, more practical, less selfish, more lucrative. Nonetheless, I made a conscious choice to take time to play and to create art. I gave myself permission.

If creating art fed my spirit, I mused, maybe I could offer the opportunity to others. Starting at my kitchen table with a few friends, my art PLAYshops were born. Now, some years later, art PLAYshops and retreats are a vital part of my fledgling art business.

Who comes to art PLAYshops? People of all ages. Those who have not created art since school. Those who don’t think they have a creative bone in their body. Those who have bought art supplies for “when they have time”. Those who are curious. Those who want to give themselves a day away from whatever their usual busy routine is.

Each PLAYshop is a fabulous learning opportunity for me. What have I noticed and learned? For starters, I have learned how hard it is for people to remember to say PLAYshops instead of WORKshops!! This interests me. Does play have less substance or legitimacy than work? It is not a question of work versus play as the two often overlap: we have all done work that was so natural to us and that we loved so much that it felt like play. I would note, however, that our culture almost always errs on the side of too much work and not nearly enough play. Art PLAYshops are one small way to redress that balance.

I have learned that many people feel fear about creating art and are worried about making mistakes. Back in school, one or two students were labelled the “Artist” despite the fact that everyone has the capacity to learn to draw. In a PLAYshop, I try to create an atmosphere where people feel comfortable and safe to play and to experiment, to ask “what if I tried this?”

I have noticed the physical comfort people feel in simply working with their hands. As they become totally absorbed in what they are doing, all of the chatter in their heads shuts down. They often forget to sip their tea or go to the bathroom. There is a “zen” feeling in the room. I imagine that they are feeling what I feel when I “play”: a contented tingling or humming within, a quiet joy, a sense of lightheartedness. Well-being. I don’t feel any “shoulds” when I play. There is nothing forced about it. I feel delight.

I notice that people often go deep when creating art in this way. We go to a holy place. We can express those things we have no words for; creating art is a healing activity.

Finally, I notice that although the emphasis is not on the final product, people are usually surprised and often amazed by what they have created.

Each of us does something in our lives that we love doing and that comes to us naturally. A friend feels this way in her drumming group. Another practices “manure meditation” when mucking out her horse stalls. Many of us feel this way when gardening or knitting. Where do you find the “spirit of play” in your life?