I first participated in the Liberty Arts Festival during its inaugural years, back in something like 2018, I think, when it was held right on Liberty Street. After that event, I wrote the following essay about my experience there, and I thought it would be fun to repost it here today, 8 years later:
The atmosphere is fun and festive with hometown charm.
Booths of all kinds of artwork and hand crafts line the streets of my hometown. This is the main street of the business district in town– the place I used to “buzz the gut” on Friday and Saturday nights.
Among these buildings that have been around since the mid 1800s, I think I can hear the faint echo of a horse and carriage. My booth is in front of the cafe that is almost 100 years old, where the locals still gather to chat over their morning coffee.
The temperature is mild, the streets are buzzing with activity, and two guys are strolling slowly up the street singing and playing acoustic guitar. They are obviously having a blast and passing that enthusiasm onto others.
They stop in front of my tent and finish their song. As I sit back and feel the breeze frantically dash between my paintings to keep them from blowing down the street, I smile at all the friendly faces who have come out on a storm-threatening Saturday to get a taste of the local art.
What a fun atmosphere! Here are a few things I have learned from this festival:
Art is for everyone
All kinds of folks pass (and sometimes even stop by!) my tent.
Rolling by comes a great grandma in a wheelchair accompanied by her grandkids and daughter.
An itty bitty terrier who would fit into my purse boldly trots with teeny tiny steps in front of His Lady. He is clearly an art aficionado, revealed by his wide-toothed grin and dangling tongue.
A 4-year-old toddles in front of his parents who are pushing a stroller. They have to keep reminding him, “don’t touch.”
Some teen girls sipping their smoothies bashfully give me a “hello” back.
A massive guy with tattoos all up and down his arms stops in. He studies and compliments my artwork with a gentle smile, and then begins to pray with me that my art will impact others for Christ.
A long-time resident of my town who knows my mom stops to chat about old times and people. My BFF from high school comes and gives me a hug as we catch up.
Some are hipsters or goths; some are fashionistas. But most are just “regular folk” like me, out to enjoy the day, get out of the house, get a pork chop on a stick, and maybe take in some art and handcrafts along the way.
Art brings people together.
Exhibiting their wares are all sorts of people: older, retired folks who maybe finally have time to develop their hobbies, perhaps some middle-aged-hacks like me, 20-somethings trying to launch their careers, teenagers discovering their talents and dreaming of bright futures, and other amazing artists who clearly have years of experience.
The variety of people types who come out to enjoy the arts on this Saturday afternoon reveals to me that art is, indeed, a universal love among us humans.
When you show your art or perform in some way, you really are sticking your neck out there.
It is a vulnerable thing to show to others what you have been working on. Agonizing struggles with self-doubt abound, but you just can’t help but give it a try: there is something about the arts that compels people to share with one another, and we enrich one another’s lives when we have that common experience .
Downtown at the art festival, people are performing live music and dance routines, demonstrating their craft, attempting to sell their work, painting rocks, assembling culinary masterpieces, and contributing to the community mural and chalk art on the ground. Everyone is putting a little bit of themselves into the mix.
With art, it is important to decide who you are and be true to that.
When you create art featuring what you love, that’s where the actual emotion and meaning come from. For me, it is stuff like home and family, Scripture, joy, and God’s creation with lots of color and freedom.
Not everyone is drawn to the same aesthetic, colors, or themes. It is ok if your stuff isn’t everyone’s vibe. It will reach someone, and you will both be blessed by the harmony of a shared interest.
It is good to keep the hometown spirit alive.
I took for granted my hometown with its rich history when I was growing up. But, the older I get, the more I listen for the voices of the men, women, and children who started the communities of this great country.
Every brick in these old buildings was laid by someone who had a story. As more and more small hometown businesses are shutting their doors, we are in danger of losing that local sense of community that holds us together.
Downtown events like this Art Festival are great tools that help to keep the community together in this increasingly impersonal society.
Perhaps the most important lesson I learned was that Duct Tape is my new best friend!
The van was stuffed to the top with the tables, an easel, chairs, a pop up shelter, the actual artwork (all this fuss for one box of art??), the tablecloths, and all the other misc stuff. And, of course, my coffee!
The last thing I grabbed as I ran out the door, just for good measure, was the good old roll of duct tape. I had no idea that this little grey roll would be the single most important item in the van! That particular day was quite gusty. But my duct tape was my trusty friend as my hub and I tore piece after piece to keep my works from flying away like so many kites!
Duct tape: a friend in need. In the spirit of The Arts, maybe someone could pen a beautiful “Duct Tape” poem for me. (Today, in 2026, I will also be reaching for Alien Tape. If you don’t know what that is, you have no idea what you are missing!)
Thanks to my hometown for a chance to be a part of the arts.
And I get to be a part of it again in a couple of days!
If you are reading this in October 2026, I’d love to see you at the 2026 Liberty Arts Festival in Morris IL on October 17. Hope to see you there!
