Why I Still Believe Sacred Art Can Heal Our Culture
There are days when building a sacred artistic life feels so surreal it seems almost unreachable.
I look around at this post Covid world — a world sprinting faster every day toward automation, self indulgence, and instant gratification — and I wonder if anything I’m crafting will even have a place.
The culture around us is obsessed with instant results, endless scrolling, and technologies promising effortless living.
Why build slow?
Why build sacred?
Why still believe?
Because in spite of everything —
I do believe.
I believe we are hungrier for meaning than we are willing to admit.
I believe sacred art isn’t nostalgic or obsolete — it’s necessity.
I believe beauty, structure, patience, grief, wonder — these are not luxuries.
They are survival skills for the soul.
And I believe now, more than ever, we need to remember what sacred artistry can offer — to individuals, and to cultures.
The Culture of Emptiness
Our society is built to move faster than we can think.
It rewards immediacy.
It glorifies novelty.
It treats creativity as a product pipeline, not a sacred offering.
In this world:
We consume faster than we contemplate.
We scroll faster than we sit with emotion.
We perform faster than we pray.
The arts have not escaped this.
In too many spaces, music, storytelling, design — all of it has been flattened into mere entertainment or branding.
We have trained ourselves to expect art to be instant, easy, and useful.
But sacred art has never been about ease.
It has always been about endurance.
It asks for patience.
It demands presence.
Without sacred art, something vital collapses inside us:
Grief goes unnamed.
Wonder goes unnoticed.
Memory fades without ritual.
Longing festers without form.
What Sacred Art Restores
Sacred art calls us back to wholeness.
It teaches us:
To dwell, not just move.
To listen, not just consume.
To offer, not just take.
Sacred art creates spaces where:
Grief, joy, and longing are honored.
Wonder is witnessed.
Meaning is planted and harvested with care.
It’s not about elitism or nostalgia for old forms.
It’s about recovering the human act of reverence —
the slow act of saying this matters enough to shape with care.
Sacred art isn’t a retreat from the world.
It’s a way of staying in the world without letting the world hollow you out.
Why HXHM Exists
HXHM was never meant to be a brand chasing trends.
It was meant to be a sanctuary for sacred art making.
Every branch —
Hallowed Minstrel Publishing,
Pedalpoint Recordings,
Emerge Conservatory,
Composer’s Study,
Bit & Baton Apparel,
Ossia Philharmonic —
they are all scaffolding for one sacred truth:
Art can still be a covenant.
Music can still carry theological weight.
Teaching can still be formation, not just transaction.
Design can still carry symbolic memory.
Performance can still be offering, not spectacle.
HXHM exists because I believe sacredness can still breathe — even now, especially now.
Sacred Art Is For Everyone
Sacred art isn’t just for the highly trained or the highly privileged.
It’s not reserved for cathedrals or concert halls.
Sacred art is for:
The child humming a wordless tune.
The elder weaving memory into fabric.
The worshipper trembling at a single line of chant.
The unseen artist painting love into color late at night.
Sacred art transcends income, geography, and heritage.
It is our inheritance as beings made in the image of a Creator.
It belongs to every soul willing to listen, willing to shape, willing to remember.
A Final Word: A Sacred Invitation
The world may keep sprinting.
It may keep hollowing itself out in pursuit of faster, louder, easier.
But I believe in planting what the world forgets.
I believe sacred artistry matters.
For the individual aching for meaning.
For the society starving for reverence.
For the world groaning for beauty beyond utility.
Sacredness isn’t an aesthetic preference.
It’s a survival need.
Let’s remember that.
Let’s rebuild that.
One note, one phrase, one breath at a time.
Welcome to HXHM.
This is where we begin again.
