Art Happening 4

Our previous art happening challenged artists to work within boundaries, rules, and themes. So we decided that Art Happening 4 should challenge artists to create with freedom whatever they wish. We found that this freedom was equally challenging. We started with a meal together, allowing the participants to get to know each other a little better. Here are some pictures from the event.

Emily Beavers writes music. She also made the collage below.

Amanda Beisel finger-painted.

“I got to do some finger painting at the Art Happening event hosted by the Veritas Arts Collective! I love getting messy and artsy. ;) Though there are many technical problems with this painting, it was fun to make. The idea is that this girl is sitting down (kind of slouched to the side) and holding up her hand as if to give something to God… Whatever she’s giving is something she both cherishes and causes her difficulty. I would title this “Please, take it.” I picture myself doing this often when I pray.” - Amanda Beisel.

Ben Lyons draws.

I guess he had baseball on his mind.

now the blue team is up

Katalin Beavers collected napkins with our written ideas about freedom. Then. This. A mobile.

It was such a pleasure for us to have her as a guest!

Princess Hinton made a collage.

Brandy Premer made treasure out of junk from a dumpster dive.

This is what she made.

The Man

A man is born
With a fist full of bullets
A cigar in his mouth
And an itch in his gullet

But the clouds they part
When a little girl is born
With a flower in her hand
With her little heart torn

But Men aren’t as lucky
Better off they’d be
If they weren’t born with a hole
Where their heart used to beat

That tiny little thing
Black as a burnt up coal
Where beat a wholly horrible thing
That some goat-headed demon must of stole

It’s that coal-black hole
That makes them grit their tiny teeth
Makes them squeeze their tiny fists
With brand new fingernails bleed

They’ll keep on gushing fluid
After they’ve ate girl-hearts a few
With screaming phone calls
And a taste for the brew

Some men take a walk
Thats quite long and slow
Through the white laden hills
Piled up with velvet snow

Their way they are picking
Wide-eyed with a bloody nose
Balls in a tight vice
Fighting themselves and a few other foes

Oh and all the pretty girls
Too bad they’ll never know
See with those pretty lashed eyes
That their men like the blow

They go on all clueless
Like nobody notices
Occupied with the blueness
Of their tight little bodices

It’s so very sad
When a young man dies
When he lays down for good
With a tight neck tie

They are always quickly buried
With two coins for eyes
With the girl that they married
With their little sack of lies

Led to the grave
With an underbite set
A shaking sorry head
And only a little regret

They grip the grassy edge
Only then to slip
And fall very fast
On a six-foot trip

The bottom will hurt
And the pillow is hard
But a man dies like he lives:
What he feels is of no regard

by Zach Smith

Check out more on Zach’s blog.

You Can’t Spell Insomnia Without Sin.

(But Other Than That, Mrs. Lincoln, How Did You Enjoy The Play?)

We

Are a generation.
We’ve wasted our dreams, and then had the nerve to ask for a re-up.
Our memories fade in a post-Grunge haze.
So we half-heartedly write it all down, to not forget the times
(Is this as good as it Regrets?)
We’re getting ahead of ourselves, with our morals beside ourselves.
So, yes.
I may pray screaming. But I’ll take that over not praying at all.
And just last week, my Grandmother told me she doesn’t condone the actions.
But one way or another, she’s got to respect the passion.
We are a Generation, see, and this is the spirit in which our art began.
And the vein in which it must continue.
We can’t be trusted as far as you can throw our shaky ideals
(But those before us had lousy arms.)
And we’ve been fasting. So now?
We’re feasting.
On this so-called past pinnacle of creativity, that we simply refuse to accept.
Look, we’re not stepping on toes (But if we were, we’d have the trendiest shoes in which to do so)
But, it’s all for greater goods and lesser evils. We’ve absolved our guilt in guitars,
Drowned our crimes in colors of chaos
(This isn’t paint by numbers, people, try and keep up.)
Faith for funds, intolerance for ink…I didn’t create this storm, I’ve just got the best shelter.
Let Every Heart, Every Heart, Every Heart prepare Him room.
So evict your idols, and tidy up a bit.
At heart….At heart, I have security.
At heart, I have rebellion.
At heart, I have redemption.

At Heart, I Am An American Artist, And I Have No Guilt.

WE. Are A Generation.

- Hanif Abdurraqib

Art Happening 3 - Visuals

The VAC hosted “Art Happening” is a recurring effort between artists who are willing to innovate, collaborate, and work in front of others to participate in communal artistic practices. Each art happening is different than the one before because much like the idea of art, the overall process is evolutionary.

Art Happening 3
Theme: Communion
Directions: The artists had just 2 hours to create the artworks you see below. One hour required complete silence with the other allowed collaboration.
Challenges: creativity with spatial and temporal boundaries, working with a deadline, spontaneity, working in front of others.

Hanif Abdurraqib

Alex Miller

I chose to go with the more religious side of communion with this work. Its showing the spiritual link of people coming together and worshiping God through communion. The blood also represents the connection of his sacrifice for the people.

Amanda Beisel
Communion of Colors

We at Veritas are an eclectic, random group of people coming together to form a community.  These colors represent the diverse, vibrant, messy people we are—coming together in God’s grace to create something greater than ourselves in order to glorify God.

Alexa J. Rittichier
Communion (work in progress)
Thread and buttons on canvas

In reaching out for human connection, unique lines of effort are thrown out, just as the individuals are unique.  Some of those efforts never connect with anyone; some of them do.  When relationships and communion are achieved, the group’s endeavors for communion combine to reach for something or someone larger than themselves.

Makenzie Frank

I felt the Lord led me down the road of the importance and intimacy of His blood, His body as the bread of life, and the Body as a body of His followers. At just a glance, the piece could give off a grotesque essence, but if one chooses to engage with the piece and dare to step up and take a closer look, one will find that what the Word has to say about the blood, the body and the bread and be able to go on their own journey down the road that leads to a closer intimacy with the Lord as we gain a better understanding and importance for communion.

Raquel Miller

It’s a depiction of a common frustration and joy that we have as Christians-to one extent, we feel separated from the world. The girl on the button ledge represents a believer, and there is a gap between her and the various pics of people that represent “the world.” This is a frustration as the way to connect and relate with them often seems impossible. But what I also hoped to convey is how we can offer and extend a hand of love and kindness, regardless of that gap, to this world. It’s almost an encouragement and challenge to pursue just that.

Dave

Esther Foulk

After hearing the prompt “Communion,” I thought initially about my own insufficiencies in my ability to commune and connect with others. My human attempt at developing relationships sometimes feels like a gamble, a game, a risk and, at times, something that is almost complete, but not quite there.  True communion and community is something to hold in highest value and strive for.

Johnny

Green

Down there
In the heap steaming green
Down where barometers scream
Where spirits chew
On the edge of your ear

Down there
Under the log leaning
Broken, eaten, melting
Where small living things
Wait to meet you singing

Sneak down
Don’t let them know
You are meeting me here
Don’t tell them who I am
Just listen and then go

I know you’re sweating
Like you don’t know cold
Like you are scared you’ll have to be here
Without me someday

Not enough of you listen anymore
You are too caught up
Caught up in concrete sores
and convenience stores
Picking yourself up off the floor

Now be quiet
They don’t know we’re here
They think you’re somewhere else
Doing something weird

Now listen to me
Listen hard, listen well
There is a hot place
There is a hell

I’ve seen it
You don’t know how well,
I’ve been there sweating
Just like you are
Trumpets swell
Trumpets swell

Now wave your arms
Like a crazed man does
Like a stoned street preacher
Who screams of Holy spirited doves

Fly down
To where we are
For we are in commune
A piece of my bride and I

I love you
I like you

We should stroll more often
More than when you are sad
Or mad or bad

When you are here with me
In between this steam
I bust at the seams
When you have these dreams

Of glory and the agony
Of the cleaning of your feet
That’s the irony
That I claim to be your King
and yet I wash your feet

It has been years
Since I broke your heart last
Since I grit my teeth
And made you bleed
Be here with me
Because it has been
21 long years
Dipped in hurt and soaked in beer
Still I have not gotten over you
Never will I get over you
You are my prize
And I have won you
You are mine

So rest here in my arms
No need to feel alarmed
Rest and cool your head
Sleep and dream a golden dream
You are mine
You are mine
I am yours
And you are mine

-Zach Smith

Check out more on Zach’s blog.