Art Heals.

This month’s session of The Remedy reminded us that healing doesn’t always happen in hospitals or therapy offices. Sometimes, it happens through brushstrokes. Through verses. Through beats. Through stories told out loud for the first time. This conversation became a space of remembering. Of honoring the power of creativity to make sense of pain, and reclaim what was once unspeakable.

“Art is a gateway between this earth realm and heaven.”
“It’s how we speak when words fail.”
“It’s therapy. It’s protest. It’s love.”
“We are all art. Our lives are the canvas.”

Together, we redefined what art really is. Not just a product. Not just what hangs in galleries or charts on playlists. But something much deeper. Something ancestral. Something sacred.

“Art is a gateway between this earth realm and heaven.”

That truth echoed through every voice in the room.

Our panel featured four powerful artists whose work doesn’t just entertain- it transforms.

Dcember Moon is a composer, producer, and mentor who’s shaped soundscapes for artists like Jidenna, Nipsey Hussle, and HBO’s Iyanu. But what stood out most was his humility. He shared how he almost quit multiple times. How burnout crept in. How loss broke his heart open. But he kept showing up. And every time he did, the blessings kept coming.

“Every time I wanted to quit, another opportunity showed up. It’s like the art wouldn’t let me walk away.”

Jordan Lawson (JLaw) is a muralist and founder of Ground Zero Studio. He reminded us that art is not just beautiful, it’s necessary. He spoke about creating spaces where people feel seen. About honoring everyday life and making community visible through color and scale.

“Art is wellness. It’s how I give people back to themselves.”

Marquis Carrington is a poet, photographer, and mindfulness practitioner whose honesty cracked something open in the room. He talked about grief. About losing his stepmother. About showing up to panels while quietly falling apart. His vulnerability was a gift.

“Sometimes we think we’re burnt out, but we’re really just scared to level up.”

Erin Douglas, founder of the Black Burner Project, spoke with grace and clarity about what it means to use your lens to make people feel. Her installations like The Barbershop and Black! Asé center Blackness, softness, and representation. She reminded us that healing often starts when you say yes to the project that scares you most.

“If something keeps tapping you on the shoulder, waking you up, whispering… it’s yours. You have to follow it.”

What unfolded wasn’t just a panel. It was a reckoning. A restoration. A call back to ourselves.

We talked about flow. About those moments when creativity moves through you like water. But also about the fear that blocks it. The exhaustion that silences it. The guilt that keeps so many of us from resting, even when our souls beg for it.

“There’s a fear of being fire. Once you’re lit, people expect you to stay lit. But even fire needs to rest.”

“Rest isn’t weakness. Rest is wisdom.”

These weren’t just quotes. They were medicine. And we needed them.

Many of us in the room shared how hard it is to pause. To be vulnerable. To let someone else hold the torch while we lie down. We talked about how the world pushes us to produce and perform, but art invites us to feel. And in feeling, we begin to heal.

“You can’t make from an empty place. Sometimes the most radical act is to do nothing. To be still and let the inspiration come find you.”

The Remedy has always been more than a conversation. It’s a practice. A collective breath. A reminder that we don’t have to have it all figured out to be worthy of expression. That even our messiness can be holy when we bring it into community.

As I looked around the room, I saw people writing poems in their phones. Crying quietly. Laughing loudly. Holding each other in silence. It was beautiful. It was real. It was church.

To our artists, thank you. For your courage. For your truth. For choosing to create even when it hurts.

To our community, thank you for showing up. For leaning in. For letting this space be what it always was meant to be: a place of return.

And to the artist in all of us: your healing matters. Your expression matters. Your story deserves light.

See you next month for another round of truth, tenderness, and transformation.

With love and in purpose,
Jasmine Garland
Founder, The Remedy