At these exhibits, I shared space with people from different periods of my life. We move through these spaces as creators and observers, each finding meaning—and maybe even healing—in our own way.
Earlier this week, my professor said, “Art is a redeemer of suffering,” and the more I move through creative spaces, the more that notion solidifies. In the past few days, I’ve seen art carefully curated in galleries, a coffee shop, and a record store.
Some pieces are delicate yet persistent, their graphite and watercolors layered with time, labor, patience and meticulous precision. Others capture individuals, not in epic narratives, but in the stillness of their everyday presence. Blended design and printmaking reveal the way storytelling shifts and evolves, transforming across mediums and time.
Art, in all its expressions, is a release. It doesn’t erase suffering but gives it structure, offering a way to process, reflect, and move through it. Some works lean into fear and self-perception, exposing what often remains hidden. Others capture the urgency of resistance, the didactic echoes of stories retold, or presence in overlooked moments. Whether confronting, documenting, or softening the edges of pain, art serves as both witness and warmth. In doing so, it does more than express; it mitigates, offering solace in the act of creation and impacting those who connect with it.
Expression doesn’t exist in isolation, and neither do the spaces that hold it. Creativity moves between Paducah and Murray, fueled by school, art, and music collaborations, thriving in spaces built on community and connection. Some spaces also offer a quiet crossing, where the work can be experienced on its own terms, apart from what surrounds it. Art creates that possibility, cultivating conversation without forcing interpretations. Even in neutrality, there is reflection and reckoning, with a moral message etched into colors, layers, and words.
The act of creating turns experience into something lasting. A photo captures what might have been overlooked. A print intagliates an idea into form. Writing itself translates scrambled thoughts into something that can be felt. Whether behind a camera, pulling prints, or quietly working with words, the need to create remains. Art doesn’t just document or preserve; it alters, offering new ways to see, remember, and understand.
The work we create and the spaces we share are proof that creation holds more power than division. This past week has reminded me that, across mediums, cities, and forms, art doesn’t erase suffering, but it helps to transform it. In shared spaces, in brief encounters, and in the hands of those who create, it resonates and persists.
Art speaks beyond the people who create it. Recreate the narrative.
Exhibits included: Barista Portraits | Glenn Hall | Etcetera Coffeehouse - 6th Street | Paducah TradeCraft | The Visual Communication Alumni Exhibit | Bill Ford Gallery | PSAD | Paducah Flora | Autumn Johnson | PJC Gallery | PSAD | Paducah Photographs from the Collection of David H. Johns | wits' end records | Murray
1. “Josh” | Barista Photos | Glenn Hall | 2025
2. French prostitute found in the dugout from which these Germans taken prisoner | Robert Capa (1913-1954) | 1944
3. “Beck” | Barista Photos | Glenn Hall | 2025
4. “Transitional Bloom III” | Flora | Autumn Johnson | Graphite and Watercolor | 2023
5. “DREAMLAND” | Adam Harper | Liquid Acrylic/Posca Pen/Color Pencil | 2024
6. “Everything is the Same” | Flora | Autumn Johnson Intaglio | 2023
7. “GREEN RIOT” | Anthony Ditrapani | Screen Printed Poster | 2025
8. “MEOW MEOW GET DOWN” | Abi Evitts | Green Paper Serigraph | 2025
9. The Antique Dealer’s Shop Windows, Beijing | Marc Riboud (1923-2016) | 1965
10. “Self-Reflection” | Adam Harper | Oil pastels /Acrylic | 2024
11. “WERE ALL MONSTERS” | Randall Griggs | 5 Color Screen Print | 2025
12. “AFRAID OF THE DARK” | Randall Griggs | Mixed Media | 2018
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