Nicole Leth

When I tell people about my art I commonly describe it as an ongoing practice of “creative resilience”. To me, creative resilience is the act of fighting to create beauty in the face of pain and then sharing that beauty with others so that they may learn to create beauty, too. I would eventually learn about the pursuit of beauty through pain when I lost my father to suicide. The grief was profound and changed me. I was seventeen years old but I became an adult that day. Although shattered, I felt a fire in my soul to spread love in this world in any way that I could so that it might be a softer place for those struggling. This was creative resilience and this was the beauty I learned through tragedy and this was what my healing looked like. This is what led me to pursue the spiritual with my art. 

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My art practice is simple: I write compassionate poetry and I install it creatively in public spaces. This work always exists anonymously because I do not think compassion should be something commercial that markets an individual. This work is always free because I believe compassion should be accessible for all. This work is always done legally because I value working with public art laws to spread compassion instead of against them.

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I have shared my tender messages of compassion in a myriad of different ways. I have posted them on road side billboards, air banners flown over cities, semi-truck advertising, flyers, murals, wheat paste posters, handmade quilts, mirrors, barges, yard signs, and stickers. I have also created compassion based experiences like free pop-up flower shops and a love letter mailing service. This work is documented by a photographer and exists in fine art spaces as either printed or digital media.

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As of right now, my work has been experienced by over 100 million people. Although it is done anonymously and many people never have any idea where these moments of compassion come from - there have been some people who have found me and shared their experiences of my work with me. This has created a very valuable feedback loop that has helped me gain a deeper understanding of the power of love. Some have shared instances of the art impacting them in smaller ways: seeing a message improved their day, it made them more patient with their children, it helped them forgive a loved one. There have been big things, too: A woman received a postcard from me and decided to leave an abusive relationship she was in. A child saw some of the messages and finally had the language to reach out and offer love to their father who was struggling with addiction. A man was driving down a highway, on the way to take his own life, and drove past one of my billboards and realized he wanted to live and that he deserved love. He turned the car around and called his kids and told them he loved them. 

 

These stories make me believe in so many things, but the thing they make me believe in the most is the power of creative resilience. This practice of fighting to create beauty in the face of pain and then sharing that beauty with others so that they may learn to create beauty too is healing to both the creator and the receiver. Creative resilience makes people feel seen, known, and loved and when people feel seen, known, and loved they begin to heal and love more deeply which creates ripples in this world. More love always means more healing which always means more love. This is the role that art, or practices of creative resilience, play in spiritual and social transformation. 

 

My goal for the future of my work is simple: I want to integrate compassion into new environments in new ways. I want to write more compassionate poetry and I want to diversify the ways I install those words publicly. I want to immesh myself fully into communities, get to deeply know them, and create site specific work within their community. I want to record this work through photographs and have the opportunity to share these photographs in more Fine Art settings (this has historically been difficult for me as many art institutions claim my work is too much of a "public service" to be considered "fine art").

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