“Art is not equal to beauty...as long as one can look at it and within themselves feel an impact and evoke an emotion, I think that’s a successful piece of work."—Diana Li, Visual Artist
"I think art is a kind of prayer. When you think about paint, paint is just really from the mineral kingdom, it comes from soils and minerals and so on, so it’s a very materialistic thing. It doesn’t say anything. You take that material and you try to make a composition. And in the composition you try to have a unity. You bring a lot of things to the composition, so many things that they’re all kind of competing with each other. You try to find a composition which will unite all those parts into one thing. And when you have unity, it’s almost as if you attract something from the spiritual world. So it’s almost like a prayer—you lift up your hands and you ask for some kind of confirmation, and if you receive that confirmation, you can have a very deep experience. You can call it a spiritual experience."—Otto Rogers, Painter.
"In story there's this healing capacity, and it has to do with emotional intelligence. Sometimes the story can make you laugh, sometimes it can make you cry, and sometimes it just makes you be in touch with something that you denied has happened in your own life. So you go into the story, you are the person in the story. When the story is told, you walk away feeling strengthened, or you feel freed...And I think stories also encourage others to take courage and tell their story. One of my mentors—Angela Sidney—always says that 'you should live your life like a story, so when you go, people tell a good story about you.'"
— Louise Profeit-LeBlanc, First Nations Storyteller.
"Art to me is to make people heal.
When I was younger I became ill—a few times I was in the hospital. I lost two friends from my experience of being hospitalized—one was a sixteen year old girl, another was a thirty year old woman who had a four year old girl. I knew that they had a serious illness and they were going to die. I was looking for words to say, something to comfort them. I had no idea what to do and I was going crazy. I was thinking, 'Is there anything I can do because I am not a doctor, I can't take their pain away...' The last word I heard from my friends was, 'I really wanted to come to your concert.' That actually hit me: 'Aah! Okay, to make people happy, or comfort people, or to take the pain away, it doesn't have to be a word, or it doesn't have to be a doctor, it doesn't have be medicine.' If I probably played one song with my violin to them, they would have been so happy, but I never thought about it. Since then, I said, 'I am going to be a musician, I would love to play for people to come to the concert, even for five minutes, so that they could be freed from pain, or they can be happy, or they can forget about what they're going through.'"
— Etsuko Kimura, Assistant Concertmaster of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra.