Tag: calling

For Such A Time As This

The other day, I pulled up to a family member’s house. Across the yard, a young man bent his neck, eyes locking on me in recognition, then called my name. It was a former student—an award winning visual artist. He walked over, eager to share life talk like we had back in the day. I noticed a black guitar case strapped to his back and asked about it. The floodgates opened. He swung the case around, drew out a basic looking electric guitar, and for the next 20 minutes or so, plucked out some mean chest thumpin’ neo-blues riffs. It was a sight—his lanky six-foot-plus frame bent almost double, draped in bright patchwork clothes, pants sagging, unleashing sounds I could feel in my soul. Sounds that were older than both of us put together and multiplied. He didn’t even know he was playing the blues, but he had it. His eyes kept darting up for approval. I nodded, bobbing to the ping and thump of the instrument, inspired. “Play that thing, boy, play!” I was late to my destination, but right on time for the reminder: whatever you have to offer through your craft is as vital for these times as the beat in our chests.

In all the twists of science and biology, I stand on the belief that we were not here by accident. Our gifts and talents were not haphazardly bestowed, or given to be buried in fear, or tucked into the closet of our indecision. This is the time for which we were made. The world groans for light, for beauty, for truth — and our hands carry the spark. Do not shrink. Do not wait. Create boldly. Sing loudly. Build fearlessly. We have been molded and shaped for such a time as this.

There come moments in history when the ground itself trembles with the weight of what must be done. Moments when darkness crowds the horizon, when fear and confusion battle for our attention. Moments when ordinary people are summoned to do extraordinary things. The temptation to shrink back and stay silent grows strong. But it is in these very moments we should heed our calling — a call to those who may not even know yet, to the comfortable, to the idle, and to the ones who can feel the fire shut up in their bones. We were not given our gifts by accident. We were not given our vision, our voices, your hands, nor our hearts merely for quiet seasons. We were given them for such a time as this.

We need your art. We need your song. We need your poem, your painting, your dance, your bread rising warm in the oven. We need the light you carry, even if it flickers small in your chest. Especially then. We stand in need of the idea only you can birth, the story you are writing. Now is not the hour to be consumed by the chaos swirling around you. Now is the hour to reach into the storehouse of your soul and bring up what has been planted there. Your creative gift is not a pastime or hobby; it’s a weapon forged for battle, a balm for the wounded, a beacon for the lost. It is how you will move the needle, shift the atmosphere, heal the broken, and awaken the sleeping.

Your thing is your art and it is not merely something you do; it is something that does. It does the work of breaking chains and restoring sight. It stirs courage where fear has rooted. It plucks the doubt from the garden of hope. It resurrects dreams thought long dead. It sows seeds of change that governments and empires cannot stop. It is not weak. It is not trivial. It is power, entrusted to your keeping. So rise up. Take up your brush, your pen, your voice, your hands, your hammer, spatula, or spade. Do not wait until you feel ready. Do not bow to the lie that you are too small or not good enough. What you have is enough, because what you have was given to you by the Author of time itself. In days of uncertainty, creativity is an act of faith. In days of despair, beauty is an act of defiance. In days of division, the act of making, sharing, and being is a sacred rebellion for liberation’s sake.

History is not forged by those who sit and wait. It’s made by those who dare to bring forth what they have, however imperfect, and place it on the altar of the times they are given. So pick up your pen. Strum your instrument. Shape the clay. Sing the song. Bake the bread. Write the words. Build the bridge. Paint the vision. Move your body. Walk boldly into the now. Create boldly in it. Offer your light into the dark. Offer your voice into the silence. Offer your hands into the work. Offer the world that which only you can give. You are here for such a time as this.

A Future Worth Saving

“…We have to matter. If we don’t, there is no future worth saving.” +Ms Marvel

We are all born with something—an energy, a light, a force uniquely ours. But it doesn’t come fully formed. It’s shaped and forged in the fire of life’s torque. Our superpower is not limited to our natural abilities. They are the sum of us, our defeats, our victories, our past, our pain, and our passion. It is rooted in everything that has tried to break us and/or has built us to now. It’s all hammered into a weapon of choice for this life journey.

As an creative, art has been my magic carpet ride, my hammer, my wings. Not easy by any stretch, but the thing that has carried me as I was carrying it. The thing I have fought with, danced with, and ultimately surrendered to. We wrestle daily with who we are and who we think we should be. But true power is in acceptance—the acceptance of all of who we are— the best and the beast. Think about superhero characters like Batman, Daredevil, or The Hulk. Their power isn’t just in their strength, intelligence, or skill. It’s in their wounds. Batman’s greatest weapon isn’t his wealth or gadgets, but the trauma that turned into his mission. Daredevil’s blindness became his most heightened sense. The Hulk? His curse became his power. They didn’t run from their pain; they harnessed it. And that’s the secret: our power isn’t just in what we’re naturally good at—it’s in what we’ve survived, what we’ve wrestled with, and how we choose to wield it.

I think back to a moment of revelation years ago, standing atop an old building in a small municipality in Antioquia, Colombia, South America, preparing to do a mural with my team of local children. These children had a fraction of what they have in the United States in terms of material possessions, yet standing there, with the connection we had, looking out over the area, we felt invincible, wealthy in spirit and verve—on top of the world. I was right where I was supposed to be and the world was my palette. There was no lack, only creation. No limits, only possibility. That’s the essence of power: not what you have, but what you create from what you have. It is of utmost importance that we spread our wings. We have to matter. If we don’t, there’s no future worth saving. Our existence, our struggle, our triumphs—they matter. We matter. We don’t fight just to fight. We fight because what we do, what we create, and how we live shapes the world present and future. If you’re reading this and thinking this is about someone else and not you. Please be reminded that it is you that make up the us. It is the we that will ultimately win. Every time we rise from pain or paralysis, bite our lip and keep on keeping on we lay claim to a little more of our power. We command our space and carve out a chunk for those who come after us.

We can spend an entire lifetime running from ourselves, trying to be what the world deems acceptable, or we can own our superpower—our full, unfiltered truth—unapologetically. Our stories are not just the parts that shine or look good in snapshots of social media. It is also the shadows, the scars, the doubts, and the falls. The key is in bringing it all together, forging it into something undeniable, unfolding our tomorrows of choice. So, I take this loving liberty to challenge you: Own your superpower. Wield it unapologetically. Stand in it fully. Because once you do, nothing—not circumstance, not rejection, not fear, not even that ragged voice that’s plagued you all of your days—can keep you from rising. Allow no thing on this side of glory to break the rhythm of your stride…let’s go dammit..!

A Call To Action

A month or so ago, I left a couple of pairs of shoes outside my studio. They were still in good condition butI knew I didn’t really need them anymore. I’ve cultivated the habit of passing along items I don’t use much—things I think might benefit someone else more—whether it’s clothing, shoes, or other belongings that could have a more useful life. I refer to it as blessing someone else with it. So, I marked the shoes “Free to You” and set them out for anyone who might need them.

The next day there was a note on my door. It was short, but it carried with it a weight of gratitude and recognition that gripped my heart. It was a reminder of the deeper impact we can have on others, often in ways we don’t even anticipate. And I must mention, it was beautifully written.

Truly, I was moved by the thank you the shoes. That they were needed, and that the person who received them was grateful. But what hit me even harder was the second part: the recognition of and gratitude for my art . I have no idea where they may have seen my work – on the news, in a magazine, or a local mural. Either way, it had touched them. In the midst of what appears to be a struggle—of living without a home—this person could still see the value of what I create. In their own way they were affirming that my work matters, that it reaches beyond just an audience of people who walk through my studio doors, gather in suits and dresses in hallowed halls, and touches unexpected lives in unexpected ways. In that moment, I was reminded of the unique power of art. We often talk about art as something that reflects society or speaks to our times, but I also know art has the ability to transform us, to bridge divides and transcend barriers. To speak to the human condition, in whatever form it may take.

For this person, my art practice is not a distant or abstract concept. It wasn’t just something I put on a canvas or created in my studio. My art was seen, appreciated, and connected to an act of kindness—a simple gesture of sharing something as basic as shoes. They had, in turn, extended a gesture of kindness back, not just in thanking me, but in acknowledging the value of what I do as an artist. This experience has made me think a lot about how we can all intentionally contribute to the world, in big and small ways. Whether it’s through a work of art, a service rendered, a loaf or bread baked or bought, a pair of shoes, or a kind word, we all have the power to make a difference. And sometimes, it’s the smallest gestures that have the most profound impact.

We live in a world where it can often feel overwhelming to think about how we can truly make impact. But it takes every stroke to make the masterpiece. If you have things you no longer need or use consistently, consider blessing someone else with it. It could be something as basic as shoes, clothes, food, or even a bit of your time. And, for creatives, it’s a reminder that what we create has value far beyond the walls of our studios, labs, workshops, or galleries. Our work can touch lives in ways we may never fully understand. Creativity is a powerful tool for connection, and sometimes, it’s the unspoken messages that resonate the most. Let’s remember that what we give—whether it’s material goods or the fruits of our creativity—can make someone’s day, or even extend a life, reminding them they matter, lifting their spirits when they least expect it. So, the next time you come across something that could be useful to someone else, or you feel compelled to share a piece of your heart through your art, go for it. Bless someone with it. In the blessing you are blessed. You never know what impact your act of kindness might have, or how it might be received by someone who needs it most.

Thank you to the person who left that note. You reminded me of why I do what I do. And to everyone reading this: take a moment today to pass along something you can part with. It may be of much more value to someone else. You just might touch a life in ways you never imagined. Bless someone. I dare you…