Why community art studios matter more than we realize.
By Jessie Nilo, Founder of God Loves Art
Years ago, a woman walked through the door of our church art studio and abruptly asked who was in charge.
My friend happened to be co-hosting Open Studio that day. A little surprised, my friend approached the woman and warmly introduced herself.
The woman stood in the doorway with a troubled look on her face. She managed to explain that a loved one in her family had passed away, and she needed to create some art to remember them. She’d heard our church had an art studio where anyone could come and create.
My friend welcomed her in, helped her find art supplies, showed her where the coffee and tea were, and ushered the woman to a quiet spot where she could work privately.
The woman created art for a few hours.
When she was done, she left in a completely different headspace. Peace had settled over her.
We never saw her again, but her story stayed with us.
I love that story. A woman came to a church, not for a sermon or music or to join something.
She came because she needed a place to express something so deep that she couldn’t put into words.
And our church had a place waiting for her.
Art ministry is always transformative.
Imagine a place
In 2008, back when I was still pretty new at doing art ministry, we opened our first art studio at the church. Was I ever nervous!
That studio was actually just a tiny classroom, but to us, it spoke volumes about the value of the arts in our church!
Inspired by studios I had toured, I wondered: “Can we create a studio environment at church?” Not just for experienced artists, but for non-artists, too.
We advertised Open Studio hours once a week, then waited to see what would happen.
Open Studio was born as a little flier printed on cheap orange paper that said “Every Wednesday 5:00 – 8:00pm.” It wasn’t a class, lesson, or project. Instead, people were invited to bring something they were already working on, or could experiment with our available supplies. They could flip through donated art books, journal, or simply chill and relax.
Nobody came the first Wednesday.
The second Wednesday, two people came. I was elated!
Over the years, we developed a system. Volunteer co-hosts (two volunteers each week) signed up to provide coffee, tea, ambient music, a warm welcome at the door, and a quick tour of user-friendly art supplies.
The goal was to provide a simple, peaceful, welcome environment to make art. I figured people can socialize literally anywhere else. Coffee shops are on every corner if the main goal is to talk. Art studios are different: This is a place to create and become absorbed in the process.
A room can be super casual and inclusive, yet still say: Creating is what we do here.
There’s something extraordinary about making room for people to create.
Illustration by Jessie Nilo
Not every gathering needs a lesson. Not every event needs a leader.
You don’t need to be an art teacher to host Open Studio; in fact, it’s best to have everyone agree to steer clear of teaching during Open Studio hours.
It is absolutely stunning to witness a dozen people engrossed in making art. Sure, people speak to each other here and there, but making is the point.
Over the years, we saw something remarkable happen.
Some folks appeared and disappeared, like the woman who showed up in massive grief.
But others attended every week for years.
Some started attending our church, formed friendships, joined other ministries, and became volunteers themselves.
For them, the art studio was their doorway into Christian community.
But that was never a requirement, or even our motive. We weren’t “using” the arts to get people into church services.
The art studio WAS our church. Where two or three gather in Jesus’ name.
Open Studio offered genuine gifts of friendship, prayer, creativity, hospitality, and a place anyone could belong.
No strings attached!
Yet very often, people discovered their whole life changing.
Make room for beauty
Philippians 4:8 invites us to reflect on things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy.
A community art studio makes room for these things, and not because what’s created there is “perfect” or conventional. Quite the opposite!
See, a welcoming art studio embraces imperfection. We try stuff, express our weird ideas, tap into deep emotions, experiment with techniques, start over, and are free to rip up our art and make it into a giant hat if we want. Friends are right next to you cheering you on.
All without the imaginary standard of perfection.
Which doesn’t exist, by the way.
My favorite signage in our studio was written in colorful marker and pinned to the wall. This sign was created by a twelve-year-old kid who was a studio regular, and it declared: “Perfection makes art boring.” Well said, kid.
In a community studio, someone who hasn’t picked up an art supply in 40 years is free to begin again.
Experienced artists can work alongside beginners.
Someone who doesn’t identify as creative can discover their God-given DNA to create.
Families and schools often accidentally discourage people’s creativity. Many wait their whole lives for permission to create and dream.
You can give them the permission they’ve been waiting for.
Sometimes, people off the street need to be welcomed into a culture of kindness, feel the tangible peace of a Holy-Spirit-filled art studio, and remember that beauty and goodness still exist in the world.
I directed that church art studio for 16 years.
And my experience deeply shapes what we do today at God Loves Art.
We think God Loves Art needs a front door
Amy Hui and I currently bring art supplies into Idaho’s prison system, where we’ve had the privilege of forming creative environments among incarcerated men, some imprisoned for years, some for decades.
We witness what happens when incarcerated people are given trust, a place to create, freedom to explore, and basic tools to express themselves in settings that value humanity and imagination.
Right now, we’re looking for a space to borrow so we can host those same incarcerated students in the community after they get out of prison. We’d like to borrow a multipurpose classroom with tables, and cart our art supplies into the classroom each time.
We’re grateful for those mobile opportunities.
But we really want a studio.
Back when I first worked at the church, I used to email my pastors and hide not-so-secret messages in them, spelling out WE WANT A STUDIO: We Expect Wee Attendance Numbers To Affect Some Timetables, Unless Dancing Iguanas Object.
They actually listened, and gave us the tiny classroom.
Later, when our youth group moved to a new room, the pastors gave us their old room to use as a much larger art studio! Praise God!
Now I’m asking God to provide a community studio again.
Many who have experienced incarceration, isolation, rejection, or difficult seasons of life struggle to find a place where they feel comfortable walking through the door.
We want to make room for them as fellow creators, as neighbors who belong at the same table.
Opening the door wide doesn’t mean lowering expectations. Again, quite the opposite. Over time, people who create side by side make beautiful things.
It’s contagious to welcome a stranger into a shared culture where everyone is valued and feels a certain ownership of a space. That stranger quickly becomes part of community. You start hearing them show new people around and echoing your culture’s DNA to new visitors. Soon they’re inviting people, too.
One of my favorite things about hosting Open Studio is giving all newcomers a little tour.
Here’s where the brushes are. Here’s the coffee. Here’s how you wash all the paint out of a brush. Here’s where your artwork can dry.
Those small details communicate something powerful:
We were expecting you today. You matter. Make yourself at home here. You belong.
Dream with me
These days, I carry art supplies around in my vehicle. We set up and take down wherever we have an opportunity to create.
In the years before we had a studio, our art community met in borrowed classrooms, church lobbies, homes, city coffee shops, lawns, and anywhere else we could find.
Art ministry does not require a permanent building.
But I miss having a place to welcome people in.
Recently, I installed a wall rack for my coffee mugs in my kitchen. After years of living in this house, I finally put coffee mugs on my wall.
Seeing colorful mugs on wall hooks surprised me.
Seems like they’ve always belonged in that spot. Like seeing good friends.
Something is stirring in me.
I’m imagining a community studio again.
A place where God Loves Art can welcome people in, where coffee is brewing, music is playing, and art supplies are waiting.
People can walk in and receive a warm welcome. People can create alongside one another, share discoveries, develop friendships, foster their creativity, and encounter God in ways they never expected.
Not having to pack art supplies in my vehicle at the end of every gathering–that’s a nice thought, too!
I don’t know when or how this studio dream will happen, but I’m okay with that.
I’ve learned from leadership classes by Pastor Tri Robinson that we don’t wait for perfect before we begin.
Vision comes first.
Then a culture grows around that vision.
And eventually, we create structure to support the culture (like finding a place, inventing regular hours, and making fliers on cheap paper).
I love all that.
So let’s roll up our sleeves. Who’s with me?
What’s possible near you?
Can you imagine hosting Open Studio at a location near you?
Art ministry can be so much more than teaching a class, creating artwork for church, or leading a special event.
Sometimes the rarest thing in the world is a peaceful room to create in.
I hope to see community art studios flourish in cities, towns, churches, and neighborhoods around the world, each shaped by the communities they serve.
For now, Amy and I are mulling over what a studio could look like in Boise.
Maybe you know a place this could be established. Maybe you dream of opening an art studio in your own community. Or maybe this is the first time you’ve imagined art, faith, and a community studio together.
I’d love to hear what comes to your mind.
Sometimes all it takes to awaken possibilities is hearing someone say it.
Sometimes, all it takes is opening a door.
Here’s to doors opening.
With love,
Jessie
P.S. Dreaming of Open Studio in your community? I compiled what I’ve learned from 20+ years of art ministry into a practical Open Studio Toolkit on hosting, creating a welcoming atmosphere, and getting started—even without a dedicated studio. Fill out the form below to get yours free, instantly.