Hi there.

Lots is happening behind the scenes that I won’t be saying much about just yet.

I will say that if experiencing and supporting local independent music is your thing you should definitely mark down this show on April 10 where a couple Bellingham bands are releasing a special limited-edition tape, which I have contributed art for.

It’s a unique project and being there for this show will be a one of a kind experience. I will be there with a limited release sticker made specifically to commemorate the project.

Local art done from a genuine place is more important than ever from my perspective.

Important enough, apparently, to warrant theft?

It would seem to be the case.

A little art piece was stolen in the last couple weeks from the wall display outside my studio. Quite a bummer.

The folks at Make.Shift were very sweet and made a public post inviting the person who stole it to bring it back with a promise not to be mean.

This is the piece in question …

As I said to them (and they shared in their post), I think the thief had pretty good taste, and maybe I would have stolen it too. 😉

Joking aside, that stung. It was very much intentionally taken off the wall on purpose by someone who thought that was fine to do. I’ve had some hooligans deface some of my art before so it isn’t new to me when something like this happens, but it is always not cool when it does.

As stupid as it is when something like original art gets stolen, it has brought up an opportunity for me to reflect on a theme that has been pretty big in my life—and the lives of many, unfortunately.

How do we relate to experiences of having our heartfelt creations and contributions to the world stolen, degraded, or otherwise disrespected in some way?

How do we turn these experiences from ones that tear us down into ways for us to claim and express our power?

I’m still figuring out the answer.

One of the things my artistic practice continues to teach me is that absolutely everything I experience is part of the raw material that I get to choose how to turn into art.

That includes when my art is stolen.

A whole lot of my art has been stolen.

One thing that was actually pretty nice about this most recent experience of having my art stolen is that when I told some of my community what happened, they were upset for me, and wanted to help amend the situation.

That’s something I learned somewhere along the lines not to expect. Too much hanging around people who viewed me as a commodity rather than a person will do that.

It’s got me realizing something very important:

When something gets stolen or destroyed, it isn’t the end of the story.

It’s the instigating incident.

The catalyst.

It’s ok if there’s a delay to realizing that fact.

Theft of something heartfelt causes a sort of chemical reaction that leads to grief.

Grief, when wielded with courage, is a raw sort of power. Potential energy waiting to be materialized.

Knowing I’m committed not to dissociate from what I feel about everything I’ve been through means that that latent power won’t go unexpressed.

It almost makes me feel bad for anyone who thought stealing my work was going to shut me down.

—Adrien