BLUE UPDATE

AR:T ROUTE BLUE has legs and roots..

I have a vision. One that has consumed me for so long. The connection of people and communities under one thread. A piece of thread that we can all hold on to. The highways unite us all. Animals, and people have traversed those highways or paths form centuries. The very land making the wayfinder lines and the valleys and water the places that hold our dreams and our steps. I am always humbled by the stories of the immigrants that I am so proud to be a person molded by. Those stories are like threads. Strong and visions of places and times that my eyes have never seen. But they are as real and defining as my own experiences. This is the bridge of time that each one of us hold. The connection of the generations and why elders are so important. I am a grandmother. I love the art of being a grandmother. My grandchildren are portals to my own children, yet also a mirror of myself and a look back at those I never met. The DNA in all of us is a tapestry. It is the life line to the future. AR:T Route blue has been a long journey. It is hard to explain what it is. Many may think it is an art route. Many think it is a blog. Many think it is something that a crazy artist is pushing that makes no sense. But it is a vision. It is building something that will connect us to each other and to the creative skills that exist in everyone of us. And it is the space. The space that lives between each one of us. I met a wonderful new artist from Ashcroft this week. Marina and I were speaking about the blue and Marina sees artist copyright is like water.

Art is for everyone. You can own water rights..but you never own the water…only the creator can. And in that conversation and connection I realized that the blue is vital to us connecting through creative thought and the thread that brings us all together…..the blue is a thread that is making its way and I am again humbled by the journey. Grateful in Blue- Michelle The Blue Wayfinder

#garbagegobbler

Lorrie
Rural Rider

Highway Art:
Here’s the New Garbage Gobblers @ The Coldstream Lookout – Note:  The original version (pic below) housed in Revelstoke!

ART Trails-to-Tales

Threading Together Our Transportation Tapestry

A Framework Following our Roots…

Brief Narrative by Lorrie Fleming October 19, 2019

            Dreaming deeper than the sea…From Blue Horses riding higher than the sky to Angels dancing in gold dust, our history speaks voluminously through a multi layered symphony of ethnological origins, cutting through tough terrain.  Along this beaten path, Michelle & Stacey forged the framework to unlock the future of travel and braid the trails by the integrity of our roots through connecting “Art-in-Motion”!

            Back to the dawn of Michelle’s empowering “Art Route Blue” vision, the vastness of her journey is unyielding, transforming history into an everlasting lifeform, a gift for the ages.  The compendious research and supporting doctrine that Michelle and her “Blue Team” gathered on this movement is testament to the arrival of an imminent & magical destination.

            As one of the pillars of Michelle’s vision for “Art Alive” along the bloodlines of a “Mother Road”, my personal strength is galvanized by our mutual aspiration to connect humankind on an enriching, educational and cultural journey.  This is just the beginning, may the power of people, place and purpose be the drivers on this incredible ribbon of road that’s threaded along our integrated transportation tapestry…

In closing, Michelle – you are the creator of greatness along this enpowering & endless journey, thank you for bringing me aboard your moving canvas!

In sistership,

Lorrie

Painting the Road Ahead

Lorrie the Highway Mentor

G’Day, My Sister Travelers:

As I sit here now in the wrath of a midland storm awaiting the power to kick in; I contemplate the journey that lies ahead.

Shifting our direction along this course as the wind changes direction, does not mean we’ve lost the will to move forward…

Seemingly, we fall victim of our success, as progress forces us to embrace challenges and shift gears.

Notwithstanding change,  I truly believe that going back to our roots is the force that grounds us to rise above, to reach even higher sources of power.

The thought of the ‘Old Gold Rush Road’ connecting ‘The Mother Road’ hits directly home 🏡 for me.  And the fear of missing an opportunity to ‘thread the needle’ on this ribbon of road may [at times] seem out of reach.

However, As I recapture my thoughts, I see myself (not lost, but found) along a discovery detour in the spotlight of spectacular scenery that becomes anew with every mile forging through this new road.

May our  journey continue and carry us to new heights, keeping our legacy relevant & vibrant by building unbreakable bonds in this galvanized chain of heritage highways.  

As true ”Wayfinders”, Our goal is to rise and lift others whom we meet along this pathway!

Love Lorrie
Staying on Course

#ARTROUTE VERNON

Hello from Trails End…

Leaving our last campsite here in the Coldstream Valley perched high on the hillside that overlooks the radiantly beautiful Kalamalka Lake!
The views up here are stunning and this magnificent area is truly difficult to leave behind in our rear view.

Going ‘back to reality’ heading homeward, we’re stopped for a rest at Juniper Beach’ along the banks of the Thompson River, west of Kamloops Lake.  How blessed we are to witness the landscape unfold in a kaleidoscope of colors.  From red apples 🍎 to pumpkins 🎃 of brilliant orange, nature’s bounty speaks volumes as Autumn settles into brilliant hues.

So long for now my special comrades, we shall meet again soon ‘down destiny’s road’!

Love Lorrie
Rural ROUTES Rider

Painted People

There is a map in my head of the painted people of the streets. The streets are different from the perch of a set of scaffolding above the city. The view is from a different lens. People are painted with different armour and wear shoes that tell economic place. Hair is coloured, tinted, combed or shaved to show social comfortability. I am an Owl sitting on a giant elm tree. My armour my overalls and my ball cap. The long blonde braids with the ends spattered in the colours from the pallet of the day. If you paint the people that pass the streets they all share the common skeleton. The artist model wooden doll posed in many different ways. Applications of fashion or anti fashion the only distinguishing differences. I think of those flip books where you can change the clothing of people in a quick turn of a page. I want to shuffle the social armour. Perhaps put everyone in white paint overalls and let them paint each other. Or at least paint how they feel today.

T-shirts with sayings and labels speak loud. The suits and ties of the armies fly with colourless abandon. The mural is not on the wall, but laying in the streets, with the painted people moving like a rhythm of brush strokes.

Wall Talk

Take it to the wall. This is something that I have done for over thirty years..take it to the wall.

The wall for me has always been a place of healing. A place where I could be messy and let the paint drips fly and my never easily managed hair tangle with the paint and the wind. There is a silence in front of a giant wall. There is noise. The noise of the cars and people and screeching tires, with the constant beep of the pedestrian timers. There is wind and wonder and ice cream coloured smudges on your legs and hands. There is knowledge and meditation. Fear is not around you as you perch from high up on scaffolding. If you could but open paint layer wings and reach the reason most artists seek for the injustices in the world. There is much to learn as a muralist and observer from the wall and much to say.

It is a play and a movie. It is time captured in stories and in the people that entered and left the screen. The wall has been the movie screen to my life.

It follows me like a tattered friend. The surface rich in textures and warmth. Tales of chewed gum and belly laugh hysterical easy days of sun and sprinklers in downtown streets. The art of a muralist is a play. A screenplay.

The faces of the people

No matter what road life takes you, it truly is the people along the way that are the paint strokes in the canvas of your life. As an artist that traveled the world I have met many many faces. This picture is of a wonderful young man that worked so hard for the Merritt crew. His story was his to tell and he honoured us with parts of it. He shared his dreams and we shared wisdoms to support those dreams. But this young man taught me resilience and silent strength. He was turned away from the care that is his right to receive when he hurt himself during a young rowdy weekend. He bandaged his hand and he came to work on the murals. Not a word was said by him.

When we realized he did not get a response to his visit to the clinic, a colourful paint spattered group went marching into that clinic demanding not to quietly his right to care. You see this young man wanted to be a carpenter and his hand is is tool, his talent and his livelihood. Yes we were muralists, but more we were family.

Culture on the #blue

AR:T ROUTE BLUE may be about art, but it is about art and more. Although to my head art is everything. In times of peace, and bounty, art can take place. When we live from a lack of struggling to survive great art can be created. It is the art that is created in times of strife and struggle that sings with our stories. The pieces of thread, glass, the carved wood and pounded metal, that live in between the places that are most valuable. The stories that mark graves and great triumph, or the whispers of wool on a patio to sooth a anxious child, wrapped up in a knitted poncho.

Our hands are the weapons of peace by piece, row by row, while we count our blessings.

Culture is what we do to define our stories. Art is the thread in the layers that show us that we too are connected like the trees. Some of us sturdy oaks, and some of us willows, bending like whispers in the sun.

Each of us has a thread, each of us a community, each of us a region, each of us a county, each of us one planet…so really we really are just one huge soft poncho of many coloured threads….lovingly knitted on a sunny deck in paradise.

BY Michelle Loughery