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There’s more to life than Netflix

I saw Kwiz Era’s art and I was roused – too bad I can’t afford it… yet!

I found inspiration in an art gallery. It was just the two of us at that time, no theatrics just us, the art and my mind. I wished there had been some music to give my mind some rhythm but even the lack of it did not take away the therapy that seeped through those acrylic  paints on soft boards and canvass.  Although I am a lover of fine tastes, mostly acquired from seeing, reading and listening, I can hardly afford them. So free exhibitions are always welcome. Ah forgive me if my Shakespearean self shows up now but I cannot help myself. This Sir Lancelot self of mine was aroused by Kwiz Era’s art.

At a warehouse turned into a creative space for kids rich in ideas and dorky thoughts. He has had a solo exhibition that has been running for about two months now (ends tomorrow actually). No entrance fee needed, all one needed was to walk their self to that warehouse, which they are now calling MoTIV, at Portbell Road and indulge. I don’t exactly know why it was therapeutic, perhaps it was the rich hues, the deep almost dark themes of the paintings, the play of lights, the soft thick blue carpet, the sweet and warm silence or perhaps the combination of all those and then some more.

Although there was no one to take us around, we still kind of got it. I know that one day I will be rich enough to afford some of that art  and create a haven of beauty in my home, but till then, I will be found in the halls of exhibition spaces peering excitedly at works of art hoping that the next viewer will get it too. I write all this as my way of saying there’s more to life than Netflix shows and South American series, and whatever it is that consumes most of your time. There’s art, home grown art, made by our very own that was made to be consumed, admired and if your wallet allows,  be bought.

In times like the present where  to some people who feel more entitled than the rest of us, noble callings like journalism are a crime, where  daring to report news could see you end  up on a  hospital bed having your head sewn back from a ghastly cut occasioned by those who swear to serve and protect, in times like these, there’s need to still one’s mind even if for just a moment. The Art gallery, any art gallery, yes even that artist in a makeshift structure in your neighbourhood  is a good place to do just that.

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