177 Weeks

Across the 177 weeks since launching our arts incubator program, these top photos, collectively attracting more than 2,703,807 views across platforms. This gallery showcases the moments that most captured attention. From curated art spaces to Winnipeg diners and the fleeting beauty of everyday life, this collection reveals the unexpected connections forged between our captured perspectives and a vast, unseen audience drawn to these seemingly random slices of life. [display_post_tags]

Conversations in a House of Ketchup

Belonging tastes like a memory you never made, folded into bread and handed to you warm. It sits beside you, unspoken, like steam rising from a chipped mug. Between bites, there’s a silence that doesn’t ache—only nods. Food doesn’t ask. It remembers. It cradles your absence until you return. The salt on your lip might be from a tear or a fry; it doesn’t matter. The plate listens. The spoon forgets your name but knows your hunger. In the clatter and hush of diners, in the half-light of closing time, there is a choir of ghosts singing lullabies in sauce. You do not need to be known. You only need to chew.

Conversations in a House of Ketchup

Tony Eetak March 31, 2025

The real galleries aren’t lit by halogen or sponsored by institutions; they emerge in the in-between: cafés...

Qaumajuq: The Power of Stories

Winnipeg shimmered in June heat—sunlight pooling on concrete, stories blooming louder than the traffic hum. We gathered there not just to share, but to listen, to witness what happens when distance collapses into presence. Every hallway, every bench, every patch of shade outside Qaumajuq became a studio, a stage, a scene unfolding in real time. Canada Council for the Arts lit the spark—Digital Greenhouse breathing life into ideas too big for one voice, too complex for a single frame. Qaumajuq made it lit. Digital became tactile. We touched screens and stone, code and carving, discovering new ways of holding memory and dreaming forward. In this heat, even the data felt alive, growing wild through collaboration, rooted in love, land, and long-held knowing. Laughter echoed off glass and stone, caught in air vents and elevator doors. We stitched together movement, memory, and light—pixels humming with intention, hands working with purpose. Nothing stood still. Even the quiet moments were loud with meaning. We didn’t just make art—we made atmosphere, made kin, made future.

Qaumajuq: The Power of Stories

Jamie Bell March 30, 2025

Workshops at the Winnipeg Art Gallery 410,790 views—and each one carries a whisper of that moment. A...

Soft Serve Frequencies

A scoop becomes a witness. The swirl is not dessert—it is doctrine, layered with pixel-static and the soft surrender of vanilla in fluorescence. Forty-six thousand five hundred fourteen eyes have seen it, but none tasted the same myth twice. The cone, pinned to the wall like a saint. Cold sugar, eternal return. A bite taken in Elmwood ripples into the archive of glances, archived now in memory, now in metadata. Art lives here—not in frames, but in freezers, in marker-signed mandates, in the quiet sermon of soft-serve melting into ritual.

Soft Serve Frequencies

Tony Eetak March 26, 2025

The cold hum spills sideways across time, tasting like the absence of plans. A cone dissolves before...

Art Lives in the Silence Between Bites

This is where the practice breathes — not in the studio or the pitch deck, but in the exhale afterward. In the quiet after you’ve given so much. In the ordinary, where art doesn’t have to prove itself. You are not your deadline here. You are not your critique. You’re just someone with tired hands and an appetite for something simple, something real, something served with a smile and a "thanks for coming in tonight."

Art Lives in the Silence Between Bites

Tony Eetak March 20, 2025

In the still life of a Winnipeg diner table, time rests between granules. Sugar, salt, and ketchup...

Come Eat With Me: Food Security Aisle lights flicker like low-budget auroras. A cart drifts alone, existential, beneath a sky of suspended rollback signs. Somewhere between frozen peas and bulk ramen, time folds. The artist doesn't seek inspiration—they forage. The absurdity of price becomes performance. Meaning hides in markdowns. Surveillance watches, but never truly sees.

Aisle lights flicker like low-budget auroras. A cart drifts alone, existential, beneath a sky of suspended rollback signs. Somewhere between frozen peas and bulk ramen, time folds. The artist doesn't seek inspiration—they forage. The absurdity of price becomes performance. Meaning hides in markdowns. Surveillance watches, but never truly sees.

Come Eat With Me: Food Security

Jamie Bell February 5, 2025

Participatory Arts and Food Production in Manitoba 204,310. That’s the number of views as the algorithm watched...

The Aesthetics of the Temporary That Winnipeg breakfast vanished, digested long ago. Yet its ghost plate lingers online, viewed almost sixty thousand times. A digital séance for departed deliciousness; a phantom feast consumed only by the eyes, forever suspended past its own fleeting existence. What shared hunger does this image feed?