Art by Kimberly Lomax

04/08/2026

I have been selected!

04/08/2026

Register for free today.

04/04/2026

Doing "ART" with my little aspiring little artist.

She inspires me 💜💜💜

03/04/2026

FOLLOWING.....

And registered!

REGISTRATION IS OPEN. 🫟

Calling artists far and wide, now is your time to put your creativity to the test and win the ultimate prize!

Show off your painting, pottery, sculptures, and more for your opportunity to take home $25,000, appear in Artforum Magazine and display your very own gallery exhibit at The Art of Elysium's Art Salon!

This competition proudly supports The Art of Elysium in their mission to support artists and communities in need by bringing them together through art. 💙

Your creativity deserves to be admired by the masses. Register today at the link in bio!

02/20/2026

PLEASE CHECK THE TIME ZONE BEFORE CALLING.

Thank You

Miigwetch

02/09/2026

💜💜💜🎶😍🎶💜💜💜

02/08/2026

Have you ever paused to notice how often crows appear along your path?
Across cultures and old folklore, crows are seen as more than ordinary birds. They’re symbols of change, intuition, and unseen messages moving through the world around us.
A single crow may signal caution or reflection. Two often hint at joy or good news. Three can represent togetherness, celebration, and meaningful connections. As their numbers increase, the symbolism deepens—pointing toward prosperity, good fortune, hidden truths coming to light, wishes taking shape, and even matters of the heart.
Perhaps these encounters are more than coincidence.
Perhaps they’re gentle reminders to pay attention.
The next time crows gather nearby, take a breath and count them.
What story do you feel they’re telling you today?

02/07/2026

They sing!

02/07/2026

Before borders learned
their sharp names,
the earth already knew
every footstep.
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People moved
as rivers move—
not to claim,
but to continue.
The ground received them
without question.

Ancestors traveled
inside breath and blood.
They crossed seasons,
not lines.
They arrived as songs,
as seeds,
as hands remembering
how to touch soil gently.

Animals carried the same knowing.
They followed hunger,
weather,
the tilt of the stars.
No place was foreign
to the ones who listened.

What we call arrival
was once return.
What we call leaving
was once trust.
Land and body
recognized one another
again and again.

Nothing here was owned.
Everything was shared—
paths,
fire,
the long patience of belonging.

And still, beneath all names,
the earth remembers us
as movement,
as breath passing through,
as guests who were never apart.
​