We are very excited to share the creations that were made during CREATIVE CONVERSATIONS Pen Pals Project Session #1 ~ Nov. 27th to Dec. 12th 2020. Artists exchanged creations in a back and forth creative expression over the course of two weeks. The journey reveals much more than creative art pieces alone ~ shared experiences and friendships blossom along the way too.

Like connecting with a great piece of art or a song, connecting with someone new can be exciting, daring, challenging, surprising, comforting, provocative, and awakening.

On this journey together participants grow as creatives ~ experiencing a variety of emotions and insights about their own creative process and learning about their matches too. Any form of creative art expression and artistry is accepted.

For professional or emerging artist participants, this serves as an interesting chance to develop and expand in their artistic discipline.

For others, having a Creative Pen Pal is a much needed break from the social isolation that COVID 19 brings.

Still, for many it’s an excersize in personal growth ~ trusting a stranger to contribute to a shared goal can be a challenge for those who have experienced abandonment, rejection, isolation and setbacks in life. But, something beautiful begins to be reset and grow as the creative conversation takes on a life of it’s own.

With only 24 to 48 hours as the turnaround goal, new concepts are incorporated using inspiration from a Pen Pal’s creative responses. All this culminates in a linear exhibit and an intimate private artist group discussion via zoom.Whether participants have joined this project with hopes of experiencing connectivity or perhaps personal or artistic growth, I believe that growth of any kind is a wonderful thing!Please enjoy the exhibit.

Vanessa Sica & Victoria Brecht

7 Art in Nature
8 Creative Connection

Susan Robinson & Matteo Monteleone

Tracy Barry & Jessica Compton

Amy Ferguson & Rhiannon Barry

Shelley Locke & Tanya Hendriks

Jennifer Daniels & Sylana Sgro


Heather Kelly & Liz Tessier

Piece 1: Heather L. Kelly

I remember
the taste of tea
and a messy croissant
cozy cafe smells and
the sound of cappuccino prep
revving over conversations
quiet keyboard clicks
scuffing chairs and the roots
music with its soft groove
that was the magical underlayer
lifting the scene
like Aladdin’s carpet

Piece 2: Liz Tessier

I Stay Home

Everything so enclosed,
trepidatious even in daydreams.
That six foot sidewalk swirl
and eye contact
over a masked smile
like an antique dance.
Neither fight nor flight
but brooding in a cocoon
of my small sphere.

As social circles around me
break and widen: spread like
drops of rain hitting a lake face
With the gathered force of humidity
breaking into tears
of summer storm.
I stay home.

but in my burrow I
feel an itch for casual community,
brush of stranger, side seat
shouldering, knee passing
of theatre. Babble of lobby
congregating, followed
by hush of dimming lights,
tuning trumpet smatter
in a full house of shared air.
Mourning the possibility

of heads together catching up,
almost elbow touch cafe tables
separated only by invisible
curtains of downward glance.
Gentle press of bus
passenger on a turn.
Missing the lack
of calculation in each
human interaction.

Grocery shopping a barbed
armed, alert entry into the
No man’s land of various
entrenchments encroaching.
Every word a sticky cloud
of questionable particulate.

Tired of it we porch sit
And pour another glass
finger dipping out the
fruit flies,
our most intimate visitors.

Piece 3: Heather L. Kelly


We orbit each other
confused magnets
instincts to connect yet
compelled to repel

like da Vinci‘s Vitruvian human
we occupy a box encased in circle
proportionate personal space
dragonfly-like stance wide
as our sphere of reach

new proportions of each human’s
personal radius are expanded
a concentric circle of six feet

go outside and look
at the expanse of sky
we can think as wide
calibrate ourselves
like the sun
to radiate
light and warmth

Piece 4: Liz Tessier


Arms around chest around arms around chest
ensconced in the best rest
my lover and I ride the couch entwined
in our hold as the pandemic looms in the zone
outside our home we flee anxiety here
in the comfort of each other’s steady breath.
After he has cleaned the eaves
and I have abandoned yet another craft.
The short days fly as we cling to each other,
scroll the blue light waves of media feed,
gather around the table of our basic needs.
Our son mourns his friends’ touch.
My Dad and I have nothing to say on the phone.
The new dog has never been home alone.
Numbers rise and we abide all guidelines,
forsaking all others burrow in uneasy bliss.
Here is the hibernation made known,
slow slumber of enclosed calendar squares
Zoom faces talking into the ether
of other. Here we hold on to gunwales
riding the waves of contagion
in the small boat hull float of hope

Piece 5: Heather L. Kelly

I don’t want to write
about uncertainty or pivots
or the need for more naps
these things already in your life
and our new vocabulary

I want to fall in love every morning
with the new sun, grateful
for the miracle that internal
organs work so well
and send each of them
a little thank you heartbeat,
with a heart full of furry critters
a mind of shimmering fish
bright golden leaves on the ground,
warm tea, spiced with a to-do list
tasks you’ll feel good about

That is what I want to share,
to add into your already full day

Piece 6: Liz Tessier


I pull apart the red tissue to stretch
across my window
Scalpel the silhouettes
of dancers
Operate with precision
the small scissors careful
not to sever an arm
of candelabra.
I wrap cookies masked,
Wash my hands often.
In this time of contagion
I hope to bring some light
to my neighbours,
to celebrate the advent
of the season with
a whimsey of hope.

Piece 7: Heather L. Kelly

One Month Run

The stage is set
a small box really
no red velvet curtain
no spotlights for her
no audience cheer
her annual appearance
a month-long run
in the living room –
sweet little tree
charmingly awkwardly
reset her stance
put on her charms
and quietly lit up the room.

She wears tiny birds,
angels, airplanes, motorcycles,
a carousel, record player,
and cute little creatures –
a new accessory each year
year after year
she performs as timekeeper,
memory holder, storyteller

after eleven months backstage
adorned, adored, plugged in
her beautiful off-kilter twinkle
is all lit up again.

Piece 8: Liz Tessier

Pressed cookies

I ate a tiny Christmas tree
you made for me.
Fake green with round sprinkles
right out of an Ideals magazine
next to a photo of red candles
in greenery and a poem
like this one, but rhyming.

We had a cookie press.
A marvelous metal thing
with different flat circles
I played with it every year
but we never used it
My mother eschewed
fussy for more humble fare.

And she would never have
bought sprinkles.
Those I recall only from
my great aunt’s hands
magically meted out melting
on top of our ice cream.

I would search out such a cookie
on the plates at coffee hour after
church. Pressed cookies
or Mrs. Vanderdusen’s haystacks.
Chorus of church lady chatter
my best clothes, reaching
out for the plate, all eyes.

Send your information to sign up for CREATIVE CONVERSATIONS #2 by DEC 21st at 6pm.

Learn More about what to expect!

All images, video, and written expression remain the creative property of the artists. All of the images found on this website are not available for reproduction or resale without permission from the Artist.

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