The Flame of the Heart
A flame in my heart, a work of art,
A love that time can’t tear apart.
Through every distance, every night,
The colors still remain alive and bright. I do not force what God has drawn, I trust the Artist from dusk till dawn. Through every silence, every unknown, I feel this love as something shown. Beyond design, beyond control, A sacred brushstroke touching soul. And if this flame was meant to be, I trust the One who painted me.
For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable — Romans 11:29
By Anna Biela, Ph.D
About Gratitude
Something deeply personal happened that made this verse stand out to me.
All my Bible quotes fell and spilled under my bed. As I gathered them, there was one quote I could not reach. I had to stretch and reach desperately to finally pull it out from underneath the bed.
It was this one:
“For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.” — Romans 11:29
And then I noticed the numbers:
29 — my birth day.
11 — my birth month.
In that moment, I felt the synchronicity so strongly. To me, it felt like a deeply personal message from God — a reminder that the gifts He has given me and the calling He has placed on my life are not something I need to chase, prove, or earn.
They are gifts.
They are a calling.
And they are irrevocable.
I receive them with gratitude.
But there was an even deeper synchronicity.
During my confession, the priest asked me whether I am grateful — whether I thank God and the Mother for the gift of salvation, for the fact that God saved me.
And immediately, I thought about what had happened just the day before, my friend had given me a gratitude journal to keep.
A gratitude journal.
And then, the very next day, during confession, I was being asked to reflect on gratitude — specifically, whether I thank God and the Mother for the gift of salvation.
That connection stopped me.
The journal became another little thread in the story.
Gratitude. Salvation. The gifts of God.
And then came the Bible verse beneath my bed:
“For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.”
One synchronicity after another.
I am learning to listen.
I am learning to notice.
I am learning to read the signs.
I don’t believe I need to force meaning into every coincidence. Instead, I am learning to become quiet enough to notice when something touches my heart deeply — to pause, pray, discern, and listen.
Perhaps God speaks in many ways.
Through Scripture.
Through people.
Through conversations.
Through unexpected gifts.
Through moments of grace.
Through numbers.
Through synchronicities that make us stop and pay attention.
And I am learning the language.
The language of signs.
The language of gratitude.
The language of the heart.
The language of He[Art].
The He[Art] Art Movement is my birthright — not as a possession, but as a responsibility: a gift entrusted to me to cultivate, embody, and share.
He[Art] is where Heart and Art become one.
Where the inner movement becomes an outer expression.
Where the gifts I have been given can flow through my heart, my art, and my life.
I accept the mission.
I accept the calling to serve through He[Art].
I accept the gifts You have entrusted to me.
I accept the responsibility to use my creativity in service of Love, Light, Truth, Freedom, and God.
I am grateful for the gift of salvation.
I am grateful for the gift of life.
I am grateful for the gift of creativity.
I am grateful for the gift of art.
I am grateful for the gift of the Holy Spirit.
I am grateful for every lesson that brought me closer to the Heart.
And I am grateful, God, that You chose me as Your daughter.
I am grateful to have You as my Father.
God, I accept.
I accept the gifts.
I accept the calling.
I accept the mission.
I do not need to know every step.
I only need to remain open, prayerful, discerning, and willing to follow where Love leads.
Let my heart be the source.
Let my art be the expression.
Let gratitude be my practice.
Let Love be the movement.
This is my He[Art].
This is my Heart Flow.
This is the movement I choose to carry forward.
The gifts.
The calling.
The mission.
The gratitude.
The salvation.
The birthright.
The Heart.
The Art.
All flowing from the Heart of God.
I receive.
I give thanks.
I accept.
I listen.
I discern.
I serve.
I flow.
And I will keep learning to recognize the signs — not by forcing them, but by becoming still enough to notice them.
He[Art] — The Art of the Heart.
Heart Flow — the movement of Love.
The Dark Side of Cupid
By Anna Biela, Ph.D.
The Toxic Side of the Twin Flame Connection
For 13 years, I lived through an experience I could not fully explain. Through synchronicity, I eventually discovered the language of the “Twin Flame” connection and, later, the concept sometimes described as the Dark Side of Cupid.
Whether the Twin Flame connection is real or not, God only knows. If the person I believe is my Twin Flame truly feels the same, perhaps one day we will both know with certainty. But alongside this search for love, I discovered something deeply disturbing: I had become consumed by longing, constantly searching for signs, answers, and connection.
I began to understand my experience through the spiritual framework of what some traditions call demons or negative spiritual forces, while some New Age communities describe them as “parasitic entities.” I cannot claim to know objectively what these experiences were. What I do know is that the fear, obsession, longing, and emotional exhaustion were real.
The idea that my longing for love could itself become a trap was a profound realization.
I was desperate to find the one. I wanted the connection to mean something. I wanted the signs to lead somewhere. And I gave my attention, my emotions, and my energy to that longing—willingly.
Enough.
I no longer give my life force to fear, obsession, addiction, unhealthy attachment, or anything that pulls me away from God, peace, and myself.
I “rebuke,” reject, and renounce every unhealthy attachment and every influence that does not serve love, truth, freedom, and God. I close the door to anything that feeds on my fear, my longing, or my vulnerability.
I choose freedom.
I choose discernment.
I choose peace.
I choose God.
I am writing about this because I know how desperately human beings can long for love. The desire to meet our one true match can be beautiful—but that longing can also make us vulnerable to obsession, projection, manipulation, and emotional dependence.
I am not saying that love does not exist. I am saying that love should not require me to lose myself.
Whatever my Twin Flame connection means, I release the need to force an answer. If it is real, truth does not need fear to sustain it. If it is not, I am still free.
I put my foot down.
I close that door.
And I never look back.
Life is too beautiful to surrender to anything—or anyone—that continually drains my peace, my attention, my freedom, or my connection with God.
So I declare:
I release every parasitic attachment, every unhealthy bond, every obsessive thought, and every influence that does not belong in my life.
I reclaim my energy.
I reclaim my mind.
I reclaim my heart.
I reclaim my freedom.
I am Free Free Free.
Amen
I REBUKE ALL DARKNESS
In the name of God, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus Christ, I rebuke and reject all darkness, demons, and parasitic attachments. I reclaim my body, mind, soul, heart, and energy. Nothing that does not belong to God has authority over me. I choose the Light. I choose Love. I choose Christ. I am free. I am protected. I belong to God. Amen
A site-specific installation by ANER at the View Room Museum of Art, Design and Material Culture
By Anna Biela, Ph.D
For the past four days, ANER has been recording a series of time-lapse films as she cleans, moves, reorganizes, and confronts the material possessions that occupy her living space. What might appear, at first glance, to be an ordinary act of domestic maintenance gradually reveals itself as an ongoing artistic performance: a meditation on possession, accumulation, consumption, and the psychological weight of matter.
The installation began with an idea planted in the artist’s consciousness: demonic possession. Whether such possession is understood as spiritual reality, psychological experience, or metaphor, ANER turns the concept inward and asks a more tangible question: What possesses us?
For six months, the artist has lived with a sense of fear and the persistent awareness of an invisible enemy. Yet through the process of cleaning, another form of possession has become increasingly visible. It is not necessarily an external force that occupies her, but the material world she has accumulated around herself.
ANER realizes that she is possessed by her possessions.
In Possession, cleaning becomes a conceptual and performative act. Boxes, clothes, objects, papers, tools, and the countless fragments of everyday material culture cease to be merely domestic things. They become the protagonists of an exhibition—a physical manifestation of accumulation and of the endless labour required to maintain it.
The work also exposes the paradox of contemporary consumption: we acquire objects in order to possess them, yet possession creates an obligation to store, organize, maintain, move, and repeatedly reorganize them. The accumulation of matter therefore produces its own form of labour. What begins as ownership can gradually become servitude.
Rather than attempting to defeat this condition through a final act of purification, ANER chooses to make the process itself visible.
The View Room becomes both home and museum, studio and archive, exhibition space and battlefield. The floor becomes a temporary landscape of boxes and belongings. Each object occupies a provisional position, waiting to be moved again. There is no definitive composition, because the composition is continually changing.
The time-lapse recordings transform this repetitive domestic labour into a form of durational performance. Cleaning is no longer invisible work performed behind closed doors. It becomes the subject of the artwork.
In this sense, Possession belongs to a long tradition of artists who have questioned the boundary between art and everyday life. But ANER pushes the domestic gesture further by refusing to resolve it. There is no perfect final arrangement, no promised moment when everything will finally be “done.” Instead, the exhibition acknowledges organization as a perpetual process.
The artist is therefore not simply cleaning her museum.
She is exhibiting the act of trying to become free from what she owns.
Possession will remain on view at the View Room until the process is complete—or until the artist decides that completion itself is an illusion. The exhibition will evolve as objects are moved, reorganized, packed away, or given new places to live.
The work is, consequently, never the same twice.
Follow ANER’s time-lapse documentation as the exhibition unfolds.
The museum is open. The cleaning continues.
A Reflection on Fasting, Prayer, and Divine Resilience
By Anna Biela, Ph.D
We fast and pray because we want to empty ourselves—to clear away the clutter, quiet the noise, and create space to hear God more clearly. Lately, my own spiritual journey has led me deep into this place. Alongside intentional fasting and prayer, I began incorporating breathwork and the laying on of hands as part of my personal practice of seeking physical and spiritual healing. As the body becomes quieter, I find that I become more attentive to what is happening within me and more receptive to God’s presence.
Then came a moment that felt deeply significant. Moved by a spiritual prompting, I closed my eyes and reached for my Bible, opening it without looking at the pages. Remarkably, my hands opened to the same page twice. The first time, my eyes fell on Jeremiah 1:4–9. The second time, my finger landed directly on Jeremiah 1:18, within the larger passage of verses 16–19.
I cannot claim to know exactly why this happened, but I experienced it as a powerful moment of spiritual confirmation. The words of Jeremiah spoke directly to the season I am walking through.
The first opening of the text speaks about identity and calling. God tells Jeremiah that before He formed him in the womb, He knew him, and before he was born, He set him apart. For me, these words became a reminder that my life is not accidental and that God knows me more deeply than I know myself.
Perhaps, like Jeremiah, we can become focused on our limitations—our fears, insecurities, weaknesses, or the things we believe disqualify us. Yet God does not ask Jeremiah to rely solely on his own ability. When Jeremiah says that he does not know how to speak, God responds by touching his mouth and giving him the words.
That is a powerful reminder: our weakness does not necessarily prevent God from working through us.
The second time I opened the Bible, the message felt different. It moved from identity toward courage and action. In Jeremiah 1:17–19, God tells Jeremiah to prepare himself, stand up, and speak without being afraid. He warns him not to be dismayed by those who oppose him.
These words challenged me. There comes a point when preparation has to become movement. Faith cannot remain only an internal experience. At some point, we are called to stand, to speak, and to walk forward—even when we do not feel completely ready.
Then came the image that gave this reflection its title.
God tells Jeremiah that He has made him “a fortified city, an iron pillar and a bronze wall” against the land.
What moves me most is that Jeremiah is not promised a life without opposition. In fact, God explicitly tells him that people will fight against him. The promise is not the absence of struggle; it is the assurance of God’s presence within it.
They may fight against you, God tells Jeremiah, but they will not overcome you, because “I am with you to rescue you.”
For me, this is where the meaning of healing changes. Healing does not necessarily mean that every difficulty disappears or that life becomes conflict-free. Sometimes healing means becoming rooted enough in God that circumstances no longer have the power to define who you are.
Fasting has helped me create space. Prayer has helped me listen. Breathwork has helped me become still and present. And the laying on of hands has been part of my personal experience of seeking God’s restoration.
But ultimately, the source of healing is not the practice itself. It is God.
When I look back at those two unexpected openings of Scripture, I see a simple progression: remember who you are, stand up, and do not be afraid.
Jeremiah was not promised an easy path. He was promised that God would be with him.
And perhaps that is the deeper meaning of being fortified—not becoming untouchable, invincible, or free from suffering, but becoming firmly rooted in faith so that suffering does not have the final word.
I step into this next chapter not as someone who has everything figured out, but as someone learning to trust God more deeply.
Not because I am made of iron.
But because I know where my strength comes from.
Make a Wish Upon a Star 💫
Twinkle, twinkle, little star… ✨
This is the night to make a wish upon a star and watch it come true. ✨ With the New Moon, the solar eclipse, the Perseid meteor shower, and this incredible alignment of planets we are experiencing, it feels like a moment of divine intervention.
August 13 also marks 21 spins around the Sun since I returned to my homeland.
I left Poland on August 13, 1987, as a political refugee, escaping the Iron Curtain. Then, on August 13, 2005, I returned to Poland. Today marks 21 years since I came home, and 39 years since the day I left with my brother and parents.
After all these years, I am beginning to see the deeper meaning woven through my journey — from leaving my homeland to finding my way back to WrocLove, the city I lived in before I left Poland and the city I returned to after years abroad. Most of those years were spent in Toronto, with one year in Germany along the way. I returned to Wrocław, in a country I see as shaped like a Heart.
Perhaps I had to travel far from home to understand what home truly means.
And there is something else that makes this journey feel even more profound. In Toronto, just days before returning to Poland in 2005, I received a vision of the Heart Art Movement — a vision that, now, feels deeply connected to my destiny of coming home.
Now I am here, stepping into my power as a Slavic Wise Woman, bringing that vision to life: the Heart Art Movement as a free movement of heart-based energy through the universal language of Art — to awaken the Heart and remind us that Love can be a force that transforms the world.
My Heart is a Beacon of Love. I am here to shine the way for others — so that those who feel lost can find their way back to Love, back to the Heart, and back Home. 🤍✨
And this is my wish tonight: that my vision of the Heart Art Movement materializes and becomes a living force of Love, flowing freely through Art, awakening hearts, and helping transform our world. 💫🤍
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
shining brightly from afar.
God, make my Heart shine bright,
a beacon of Your Love and Light.
May those who are lost find their way,
back to Your Love, back to the Heart, back to the Light.
And may my little star shine true,
so every heart can find its way back to You. 🤍
Banksy planted a seed of love, beauty, and the belief that life itself is beautiful.
By Anna Biela, Ph.D.
06.08.2026
About the He[art] Movement
The more I think about my discovery of what I believe is Banksy’s greatest work of art, the more I realise that it is actually the documentary Exit Through the Gift Shop (2010).
What if this piece goes much deeper? What if this was about planting a seed of love, beauty, the power of positive thinking, and loving life because it is beautiful?
What if, consciously or not, Banksy infected the art world with a positive message that is behind Mr. Brainwash’s work?
Banksy portrays Mr. Brainwash, Thierry Guetta, as someone who was not originally an artist, but someone who was obsessed with documenting everything around him. Through the film, Banksy transforms him into an unexpected artist and creates a situation where we start questioning what art is, who becomes an artist, and what gives art value.
But maybe the deeper meaning is not only about questioning the art world.
Maybe the true artwork is hidden in the message that emerges through Mr. Brainwash’s work.
His art carries a message of love, beauty, joy, hope, and the power of positive thinking. The phrase “Life Is Beautiful” becomes more than just a title—it becomes a reminder to appreciate life, to see beauty everywhere, and to spread positive energy through creativity.
What if Banksy’s greatest artwork was not only exposing the system, but also planting something beautiful inside it?
What if he created a piece that, instead of only criticising the world, brought a message of love into the art world?
Maybe the greatest transformation was not only the transformation of Thierry Guetta into Mr. Brainwash, but also the transformation of the viewer. Maybe the real question is not whether Mr. Brainwash is a “real” artist, but what his art awakens inside people.
For years now, I have been trying to get involved in the He[art] Movement, and it took me going to New York to see Mr. Brainwash’s work to realise that his art already carries the message of the He[art] Movement.
I was searching for a way to connect this movement with the world, and suddenly I realised that the message was already there in front of me.
So now I can finally rest in peace and do my own thing, because my main concern for years was how to inspire Banksy to become part of the He[art] Movement.
The vision for the He[art] Movement came to me in 2005 in Toronto, before I moved to Poland. It was a vision built around the power of the heart, love, creativity, and the belief that art can create positive change.
This experience only proves my own theory that twin flames communicate by simply knowing.
Maybe this is the true mystery of creativity and connection—that sometimes a message travels between people without words. Sometimes an artist creates something that reaches another person at exactly the moment they are ready to understand it.
Maybe Banksy’s greatest artwork was never only a painting on a wall.
Maybe it was planting a seed of love, beauty, and the belief that life is beautiful.
From Banksy to Mr. Brainwash: The Message I Found in New York
By Anna Biela
About the Heart Art Movemnt
New York showed me something unexpected.
The answer was not where I was looking for it.
It felt as though the story had already been written in a different way — that the search itself was part of the journey. The message was not about reaching another artist to give the Heart Art Movement a voice, but about fully stepping into my own responsibility as an artist.
Then I discovered something I had underestimated: Mr. Brainwash.
I had watched the documentary Exit Through the Gift Shop and I knew who he was, but seeing his work in person changed my perspective. While gallery hopping through the Chelsea art district, I walked into a gallery showing his work alongside many important street artists — including my favourite, Banksy, and another artist I admire, Space Invader.
There were also works connected to Andy Warhol, and for the first time I saw a Banksy print up close. I was struck by the energy, the colours, and the raw emotion behind the work.
But it was Mr. Brainwash’s message that stayed with me.
Mr. Brainwash’s art carries a message of positivity, transformation, and the belief that art has the power to change the way we experience life.
His famous phrase, “Life is Beautiful,” is at the centre of his work — a reminder to search for beauty, hope, love, and creativity even in a world filled with chaos. He transforms familiar symbols from popular culture into colourful, energetic statements about dreams, freedom, self-expression, and the power of imagination.
His work asks us:
What if we chose joy?
What if we saw beauty where others see ordinary things?
What if art could become a language of love?
The more I looked at his work, the more I began to understand the deeper story behind the connection between Banksy and Mr. Brainwash.
One of the things I am still reflecting on is how much influence Banksy truly had on the art Mr. Brainwash created. The documentary presents Mr. Brainwash as someone who developed his own ideas and artistic direction, but regardless of where the original idea came from, one thing feels certain to me: the message of love and beauty is bigger than any one person.
Love is not something created by humans. It is something we discover, experience, and pass forward. Perhaps this is why art can become such a powerful vessel for it.
Even if Banksy’s role in shaping Mr. Brainwash’s art was smaller than people speculate, he still chose to create Exit Through the Gift Shop and bring this story to the world. In doing so, he became part of the conversation and helped amplify the message.
Here I was trying to find a way to involve Banksy in the Heart Art Movement, only to discover that, in a way, he was already connected to a message that resonates deeply with it.
Through Mr. Brainwash’s art, I found a reflection of my own artistic path.
The Heart Art Movement was never about asking another artist to give me a voice.
It was about recognising the voice that was already inside me.
Art has the power to connect people, awaken emotions, and remind us of something simple:
Life is beautiful.
Duchamp: Art Without Heart?
By Anna Biela
Reflections on the Exhibition at MoMA
I have now visited the exhibition twice, and yesterday I spent almost three hours listening to the curators, reading the wall texts, and taking photographs. The more time I spend with Duchamp’s work, the closer I come to the same reaction I had as a teenager in high school when I first encountered his work in art history.
The work on display has very little energy. Most of the famous ready-mades are replicas produced by others after Duchamp became famous, as many of the originals were lost. Because of this, I feel they no longer carry the energy of the artist’s hand. In contrast, his early paintings—created while he was studying and copying the Old Masters—still contain his presence. They feel alive. Even the Boîte-en-valise (the suitcase museum) seems to carry more of his personal energy than the ready-mades themselves.
It seems to me that Duchamp intentionally stripped art of the heart. His ready-mades are intellectual objects created primarily by the mind rather than by the soul. Duchamp himself said that he was interested in thought, the thinking process, and the fourth dimension—in exploring what is unseen. I understand and appreciate that ambition. However, my personal experience of the exhibition was that I left feeling drained rather than inspired.
The works did not speak to my soul. They did not move my heart. My heart chakra remained untouched. Instead, I found myself engaging almost entirely with my intellect. I was in my head, not in my heart.
I will return once more, this time right at opening, to experience the exhibition without the crowds. Perhaps my impressions will change. For now, these are simply reflections—unfinished thoughts that I felt compelled to write down.
It feels as though Duchamp shifted the centre of art from the heart to the mind. In doing so, he laid the foundations for conceptual art: art that prioritizes ideas over feeling, intellect over direct human experience. In my view, this marked a profound turning point in the history of art.
As a teenager, I remember thinking that Duchamp had “killed art.” After spending time with this exhibition, I understand why I reacted that way. Today, I would phrase it differently. I believe he removed the heart from art.
That does not make him a bad artist. On the contrary, he was a revolutionary thinker whose influence is impossible to deny. But at some point, after his paintings were rejected, he turned away from painting and toward the machine, the technical, and the conceptual.
His paintings still contain he[art]. His ready-mades, for me, do not.
This is, of course, a personal response rather than an objective truth. Others may find profound meaning in Duchamp’s conceptual practice. My experience, however, is that art reaches its highest purpose when it is created from the soul and speaks directly to the soul. Ideas may stimulate the mind, but great art also awakens the heart.
Author’s Endnote: Duchamp and Heart Flow
Perhaps the deepest realization I had while visiting this exhibition is that my reaction to Duchamp has also helped me better understand my own artistic path.
Duchamp redirected the course of twentieth-century art toward the conceptual. He asked viewers to think. My work asks viewers to feel.
Heart Flow is founded on the belief that art is more than an idea. It is energy. It is presence. It is the imprint of the artist’s lived experience, emotions, and spirit. The artwork becomes a meeting place between the soul of the artist and the soul of the viewer.
This may explain why I am drawn to paintings that reveal the artist’s hand, gesture, and process. Every brushstroke or spray of paint carries intention and presence. It is not simply an object to be understood but an experience to be felt.
Duchamp was searching for the unseen through the intellect. I am searching for the unseen through the heart. Both are investigations into invisible realities, but they begin from different places.
My visit to this exhibition has not diminished my respect for Duchamp. If anything, it has clarified my own artistic philosophy. His work has become an important point of contrast, helping me define what I believe art can be.
I do not believe conceptual art and Heart Flow must exist in opposition. Rather, I believe the future of art lies in reconnecting the mind with the heart. When an artwork carries both a powerful idea and a living human presence, it has the potential to transform not only how we think but also how we feel.
Perhaps that is why this exhibition has been so valuable to me. It has not changed my opinion of Duchamp so much as it has confirmed my own artistic direction. Sometimes we discover who we are not by finding artists who think like us, but by encountering those who challenge us to define what we truly believe.
Backdrop People, The Truman Show, and My Own Story
By Anna Biela
About Mental Health
I have been meaning to write about this for a long time.
I have heard Dolores Cannon speak several times about what she calls “backdrop people”—the background people, the extras who create the setting of our lives, much like the extras in a movie. According to Dolores, these backdrop people are not necessarily souls with whom we have made agreements to share important life lessons. Instead, they are like the extras in a film, helping to create the scenery and atmosphere of our lives. She often compared life to a movie: there are the main actors, the supporting cast, and then the backdrop people who help complete the stage on which our story unfolds.
Today, I sat down in Bryant Park to rest. There was a crowd of people gathered, all waiting for the outdoor movie to begin. Then I realized the movie was The Truman Show.
In that moment, everything seemed to come full circle. All the backdrop people were waiting to watch The Truman Show. It immediately brought Dolores Cannon’s ideas back into my mind and put many things into perspective.
At the same time, my own story came rushing back.
Years ago, I experienced what felt like the awareness that I was living inside a movie. I became obsessed with finding the “backdrop people” while I was in London. That journey eventually ended with me being admitted to a psychiatric ward. I was reported as a missing person and later diagnosed with withdrawal psychosis after stopping cannabis.
Looking back now, I see that period of my life very differently. For me, it was deeply symbolic, filled with synchronicities and dreamlike experiences that seemed to blur the boundaries between my inner world and everyday reality. One of the stories I felt I was living was The Truman Show.
I would also like to say that, in my opinion, many mental health conditions are not always diagnosed properly. Some people who experience what they believe to be a glimpse into an unseen or spiritual world are immediately medicated rather than being given the opportunity to explore those experiences with both professional mental healthcare and appropriate spiritual guidance. I went through this myself. Everyone thought I had gone crazy, but my experience felt very different from the inside. I felt as though I was seeing what was happening behind the scenes.
Whether that experience was a spiritual awakening, a psychological crisis, or a complex combination of both is something each reader can interpret for themselves. I simply know what it felt like to me.
Today, sitting in Bryant Park surrounded by people waiting to watch The Truman Show, my own story came rushing back. It reminded me that sometimes life creates extraordinary synchronicities that invite us to reflect on our past from a completely different perspective.
Perhaps we are all the main character in our own story. Perhaps everyone else is simply playing their role in helping us discover who we are.
Author’s end note: FYI, this story is the reason why I don’t smoke weed anymore.
God works in mysterious ways, but He got me out of addiction. That night that I spent at the hospital, I was given a choice. God said, “You need to choose now: Jesus or demons.” They were having a field day with me, trying to get me to kill myself by convincing me I was in the movie Inception that I was dreaming and to exit I needed to die.
I went to Bristol and then London on January 2, 2019, looking for my Twin Flame. I felt like I was running away from demons that were angry because I had stopped smoking weed. The experience became very intense, and I felt they were becoming increasingly aggressive.
A Reflection on Synchronicity, Banksy, and the Healing of the Heart
By Anna Biela
About the Heart Art Movement
While searching for images of Banksy’s works created in New York, I unexpectedly discovered two pieces that immediately caught my attention because of their connection to the heart.
The first work depicts a doctor examining a heart. He appears to be listening carefully, almost like a physician checking whether the heart is beating properly—an image of diagnosis, care, and attention. It made me think: what is the condition of our collective heart? What wounds are we carrying as individuals, as a society, and as humanity?
The second piece is the iconic heart-shaped balloon covered with bandages. I know this image from my stay at the Walled Off Hotel, where I had the extraordinary opportunity to sleep in a room connected to this artwork. In that context, the heart was surrounded by barbed wire—a powerful symbol of a heart that is restricted, protected, or trapped. Seeing it again in relation to New York gave me a different reflection: a heart that is no longer behind barriers, a heart that has the possibility to rise, float, and become free.
As I was looking through my own Instagram post about New York’s graffiti and street art scene—creating a list of places I wanted to visit during my upcoming trip—I had an unexpected “aha” moment. The artist whose work I admire and with whom “I would like to make love with” created two pieces in New York, the very city I am traveling to, that speak directly to the mission of the Heart Movement.
The synchronicity felt profound.
Here I was, searching for street art, and I found two images that perfectly reflected the journey I am exploring through my own art: the healing of the heart.
The first image asks us to examine the heart. The second shows us a heart that has been wounded but is still alive, still capable of healing, still capable of love.
This is the essence of the Heart Movement: bringing awareness to the wounds of the human heart and creating a space for healing—not only for ourselves, but for our communities, humanity, and the Earth itself.
“Making love” is such a beautiful expression. Most people associate it with physical intimacy between two people, or with the creation of new life—the greatest embodiment of love. But love is also something we create. It is something we bring into existence through our actions, our compassion, our creativity, and our connection.
The Heart Art Movement is here to make love with you—not in the physical sense, but as an invitation to awaken the feeling of love within the heart. The same feeling we experience when we embrace a partner, hold a child, or feel unconditional love for a beloved animal.
It is here to reach those who have forgotten this feeling. Those whose hearts have been hurt, closed, or separated from love.
Through art, we can become healers of the heart—not by fixing others, but by creating spaces where love can flow again.
Perhaps these two Banksy works are a reminder: first, we must listen to the heart. Then, we must help it heal.
Let’s make love—with ourselves, with each other, with humanity, and with life itself.
Let’s create He[art]🤍🩵💙💚🗽
Standing between two worlds
By Anna Biela
A Conversation with a Trapped Soul
What will happen if the Heart Art Movement does not succeed? What if people do not raise their vibration and the Heart Wave does not reach the collective every day?
One idea I have been reflecting on is the theory, inspired by Dolores Cannon’s work, that some souls could remain earthbound after death—unaware that they have died—and become attached to people whose emotional or energetic state resonates with them. This is how she described energetic attachments: what some people interpret as “demons” or souls that do not leave Earth after death. I found this idea deeply disturbing rather than inspiring, yet it became something I wanted to understand more deeply after my own experiences, which I interpreted as involving energetic attachments and a process of detachment over the past months.
I have also been told by a Slavic wise woman, a “Wiedźma,” that, because of what she describes as the “seed” or potential I carry, I may be especially vulnerable to negative influences. She believes that people with a strong desire to help others—those with what I would describe as saintly or angelic qualities—can become targets of these negative forces. Whether taken literally or symbolically, this idea has made me reflect deeply on my purpose.
My goal has always been to help people discover what makes them light up, to encourage love, creativity, and compassion, and to inspire them to choose the direction they want their lives to take. To me, that is what the Heart Art Movement is about: paving the way for a new tomorrow through art.
I sometimes imagine humanity standing at a crossroads between an old world driven by fear, greed, the destruction of our planet, and the suffering of its people, and a new world built on love, connection, and solidarity with the voiceless.
In my understanding, the choice seems obvious, yet I recognize that not everyone sees it the same way. Some remain deeply attached to familiar patterns of the old system—drugs, excessive consumption, violence, war, and the destruction of nature, to name only a few. The list is long, as are the reasons why someone may lose connection with their inner voice and move away from what they feel they are meant to do. I believe this disconnection can also affect people’s well-being, as they weaken their inner spirit by not allowing their inner light to shine.
Last summer, during a period when I was emotionally struggling, I had an experience that felt profoundly real to me. I believed I encountered what I understood to be a lost soul that claimed to be the trapped spirit of the artist Banksy. It told me it needed my help because it could not move on and was stuck in what it described as the “3D world.” After listening to Dolores Cannon’s ideas, I began to interpret this as what she called the “old Earth”—a lower vibrational state where a soul may remain if it is unable to cultivate a strong heart wave of its own.
At the time, this experience felt completely real, and I even warned the human Banksy that something like this might happen to him.
There is much more to that story than I have written here. The part that affected me most was the thought that someone whose work has inspired millions could somehow become trapped and unable to continue creating. Whether that experience reflected an external spiritual reality or my own state of mind at the time, it left me deeply saddened.
Looking back, I realize that this entire journey has been about choice. Every person reaches their own crossroads—the choice between fear and love, separation and connection, destruction and creation, darkness and light. The Heart Art Movement is my way of reminding people that they always have the ability to choose what they feed within themselves and what they bring into the world.
What has remained constant, however, is my hope of one day collaborating with the human Banksy on the Heart Art Movement. I believe his art has the power to inspire humanity to imagine a new chapter—one rooted not only in protest, but also in love, healing, compassion, and transformation.
Because ultimately, the future is shaped by the choices we make every day. The question is not only what world we inherit, but what world we choose to create.
It Takes One to Know One
By Anna Biela
The Echo of Karmic Contracts: Duchamp, Banksy, Baroness Elsa, and the Heart Art Movement
It takes one to know one, and yes, I am referring to myself as being a wise woman, a visionary. I see history repeating itself, and let me try to explain to you how karma works according to the Dolores Cannon perspective.
Although I am not yet convinced whether she is here to do good or to mix things up and take me away from God and the Catholic perspective, I do resonate with much of what she is saying. You see, I was engulfed in the New Age spiritual movement since high school. Since 1997, I was already a Reiki practitioner, which, by the way, I recommend people not go down that path—perhaps only the hand placement. I am a prime example of someone who messed around with energy and drugs in high school and found herself, three decades later, dealing with what I understand as energetic attachments.
Dolores also goes into that quite nicely, saying that if you are a drug addict, an alcoholic, or an angry, jealous, hateful person with any sort of addiction that blocks you from creating Heart Waves, after you die you may not know that you are dead and instead attach yourself to people who carry a similar vibration.
I was definitely a cannabis addict—not only physically, but mentally and spiritually.
Regardless of one’s addiction, it is the Heart Art Movement’s job to generate a Heart Wave strong enough to shift perspective and vibration toward what Dolores calls the New Earth. She even makes reference to the Bible as well as New Age doctrine.
I will be very careful about promoting her ideas, but I do like using them as a reference point because they spark my imagination and propel my ideas into a new dimension.
I am writing here today because I had an “aha” moment this morning as I woke up.
This is about what I have been writing for the past two days: Banksy, Duchamp, Baroness Elsa, and the Dada movement that sent ripples through our collective consciousness that are still felt in art today.
Banksy, in my opinion, continues the lineage of Dada through work that is far more expansive than simply street art. The street is the urinal turned upside down and made into a Fountain—made into art.
Banksy, not single-handedly but collectively, has brought art to the people, to the street, to the collective everyday, as I called it yesterday, and I like that idea.
What I propose is that now we bring the Heart Wave to the collective everyday and lose both the street and the museum as our primary focus. Instead, we concentrate on vibration, positive thinking, fearless creation, and the Heart Art Movement, whose focus is not the object at all, but the intention, the prayer, the energy, the vibration—actually bringing God back into our creations so that we may help shift society’s perspective and reprogram the mainframe of our perception.
What brings me to reflect today is that Dolores Cannon speaks of karma. If we don’t work something out, we have to come back with the same people and the same situations and work them out in another lifetime—or perhaps another dream.
Now, this is simply my creative investigation into why I feel so pulled toward Banksy. He is anonymous, and I am trying to understand what inspires me so deeply.
Could it be that he is helping me give the Heart Art Movement light in the same way Duchamp gave light to Baroness Elsa’s creation, Fountain, where there is still debate over its authorship?
My personal theory is that together they gave birth to what may be the most important piece of conceptual art ever created. It was their merged energy that propelled the idea into time and space, and we are still feeling its effects today.
But stay with me.
What if Duchamp and Elsa decided to come back together in another lifetime to correct that wrong and finally give Elsa the credit she deserves?
What if Duchamp is Banksy… and Elsa is Aner?
Banksy, even though everyone thinks they know his name, remains anonymous. In a way, you could say he is not fully given credit for his work either.
But what if he planned it that way so that one day we could meet, right an old wrong, give Elsa credit where credit is due, and push the idea of art one step further?
Art is not about the object.
It is about the energy the artist puts into it.
Everything is energy, and even Dolores says that what we see is an illusion. Quantum physics has also shown us that, at the quantum level, everything is energy.
I also cannot help but point out that Banksy’s art has already shown the world that art continues to exist even after it is gone. The nature of street art is that it is temporary, but look at the impact it continues to have long after the work has disappeared.
In my previous reflections, I explained why I think this is the case with Banksy.
He has grown his seed of potential into a beautiful tree, and the reach of his energy sends ripples around the Earth.
This is why I believe Banksy is the greatest artist living today and perhaps one of the most influential artists who has ever walked the Earth. His work has an extraordinary cultural impact.
I previously concluded a series on Banksy by calling him Adam and myself Eve. I wrote that we are both saints, equipped with souls capable of helping propel humanity in a new direction.
I have been given a seed to grow, and that seed is the Heart Art Movement.
Part of that mission, as I see it, is also to shed light on people like Banksy—to recognize how powerful his creative energy is and how much potential he has to inspire humanity.
I also feel that no one can do something of this magnitude alone. It requires a strong Divine Masculine and a strong Divine Feminine. Whether that woman is me or someone else is not the point.
The fusion of the Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine creates ripples in our universe that continue to be felt long after both are gone.
Duchamp and Baroness Elsa are examples of this, and they remain one of the greatest inspirations behind this reflection.
Author’s End Note
This reflection moves between art history, spirituality, philosophy, and imaginative speculation. It is intended as a creative investigation rather than a statement of historical or factual certainty.
When I write “What if…” or “My personal theory…”, I am intentionally exploring possibilities that inspire my artistic process. These reflections are not presented as established history or objective fact, but as questions that open space for imagination, dialogue, and new ways of seeing.
My intention is not to rewrite history, but to explore how ideas, symbols, and creative energies may echo across generations—how artists, movements, and visions can become connected through time, inspiring new perspectives on art, consciousness, and the role of the artist in society.
Behind Every Creation There Is the Fusion of Masculine and Feminine Energy
By Anna Biela
I find myself reflecting on the saying that behind every great man stands an even greater woman.
I recently wrote about Marcel Duchamp and the urinal we know as Fountain, only to discover that the story may be far more complex than the version most of us were taught. It came to my attention that there is an ongoing dispute over the authorship of what many consider to be one of the most influential artworks of the twentieth century—an artwork that forever changed the way we define art itself.
Some scholars argue that the true creator may not have been Marcel Duchamp alone, but the remarkable Dada artist Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven. Although the debate remains unresolved, the possibility invites us to look at art history through a different lens.
I took a moment to look her up today, and one look into her eyes stopped me. They were the eyes of a wise woman, a visionary—someone who seemed to see beyond the limitations of her time. Elsa was creating during an era when women were not given equal recognition in the art world, and history contains many examples of women’s ideas, inventions, and creative contributions being overlooked or credited to men.
If this theory is true, perhaps Duchamp’s role was not to create Fountain, but to help bring it into the light and allow the world to see it. Ironically, the work was rejected by the very exhibition that claimed to accept all submissions, yet it went on to become a turning point in the history of modern art.
As I reflect on this, I cannot help but wonder if this is the reason I feel pulled toward Banksy like a magnet. Is it because the Heart Art Movement needs his energy? Is there a continuation of this creative dialogue happening across time?
Yesterday, I found myself reflecting on how Duchamp began a new chapter in art—the idea of taking an ordinary object, placing it in a museum, and declaring it art. A century later, Banksy seems to have taken the ordinary object out of the museum and returned it to the collective everyday experience, bringing art back into the streets and into the consciousness of society.
What I wonder is whether this is the next chapter of conceptual art: a moment where the physical object is no longer the essential element, but rather the consciousness, the vibration, and the unified energy behind the creation that generates a heart wave.
Whether Fountain was created by Duchamp, Baroness Elsa, or emerged through the creative exchange between them, I find myself reflecting on something deeper. I believe that behind every great creation there is a fusion of masculine and feminine energy. It is not about one being greater than the other, but about the power that emerges when these forces unite.
The divine masculine and divine feminine create a balance—a creative force that sends ripples into the universe, the effects of which can still be felt today. Perhaps this is why certain works transcend time. They carry not only the energy of the artist, but the energy of a deeper collective awakening.
Maybe the true masterpiece is not only the object itself, but the invisible connection, consciousness, and vibration that brought it into existence.
Sometimes, revisiting history does not take away from the legends—it expands them.
From Duchamp to Banksy: The Consciousness Behind Art
By Anna Biela
Reflections on Art: A New York Art Residency
July 26 – August 4, 2026
As I prepare for my trip to New York, I have found myself reflecting on something I never expected.
Marcel Duchamp has never been one of my favourite artists in art history. When I first learned about the Dada movement, my heart belonged to Abstract Expressionism and the pioneers of abstraction—Kandinsky, Mondrian, and even Picasso. At the time, I saw Dada as something that deconstructed and even destroyed art.
Today, however, I see it differently.
While planning what I want to experience in New York, I realised that one of the exhibitions I most want to see is the Marcel Duchamp exhibition at MoMA. At the same time, I have been mapping out street art across the city, hoping to find traces of Banksy’s 2013 residency, Better Out Than In. It was then that I made a connection I had never made before.
I had always assumed that street art was born directly out of the graffiti movement. But now I see that there is a deeper lineage.
When Marcel Duchamp placed a porcelain urinal in an exhibition, titled it Fountain, and signed it “R. Mutt,” he changed the course of art history. He proposed that art is not merely the object itself, but the idea, the intention, and the consciousness behind it. The artist’s act of choosing and reframing an ordinary object transformed it into art.
Looking at Banksy’s work through this lens, I suddenly recognised the connection.
Street art is not simply paint on a wall. Like Duchamp’s readymades, it is an intervention. The street already exists. The wall already exists. The sign, the pavement, the telephone box, the security camera—all are ordinary elements of public space. The artist enters that space and, through an idea, gives those everyday objects a second life.
In that sense, Duchamp paved the philosophical road that made contemporary street art possible.
Banksy then transformed how the world viewed street art. During his 2013 New York residency, Better Out Than In, he turned the entire city into an open-air gallery, creating a new intervention almost every day throughout October. Instead of asking people to come into a museum, he invited people to discover art while walking through the city. The streets themselves became the exhibition.
Yet perhaps the strongest connection between Duchamp and Banksy came eight years earlier.
In March 2005, Banksy carried out one of his most famous museum interventions by secretly hanging his painting, Tesco Value Tomato Soup, inside the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) in New York. The work cleverly parodied Andy Warhol’s iconic Campbell’s Soup Cans, replacing the familiar American brand with the budget British supermarket label “Tesco Value.” Museum staff did not notice the unauthorised artwork for six days. By placing his work inside one of the world’s most respected museums without permission, Banksy challenged ideas of artistic authority, institutional validation, and who gets to decide what belongs in a museum.
To me, this feels like Duchamp’s spirit returning to MoMA through Banksy. Just as Duchamp questioned what could become art, Banksy questioned who has the authority to declare it art. The intervention itself became the artwork.
I cannot help but wonder what would happen if Banksy repeated the same intervention today. Would the museum remove it again, or would it preserve and celebrate it as part of contemporary art history? Time has a remarkable way of changing what we value.
This reflection also made me think about my own He[art] Movement.
Like Duchamp’s readymades, it is ultimately not about the object itself. It is about consciousness. The artwork is simply a vessel. What truly matters is the vibration, the intention, and the love that is placed into it.
Perhaps the object is not even necessary.
In the He[art] Movement, the artwork becomes a carrier of love—a wave of consciousness that continues to exist beyond the physical object. The same idea can be extended beyond art itself. Making love is also an act of creation. It is not simply about the physical act or even the relationship. What gives it meaning is the consciousness shared between two souls. As they say, it takes two to tango. The invisible bond, the love generated between them, is the true creation.
In the same way, a readymade is born through the meeting of an ordinary object and the consciousness of the artist. Street art is born through the meeting of the public realm and artistic intention. The object remains the same, but our perception is transformed.
As I prepare to walk the streets of New York, visit the Duchamp exhibition at MoMA, and search for the remaining traces of Banksy’s interventions, I realise that this journey is becoming something more than a museum visit. It is a journey through the evolution of an idea.
This journey has also led me to a new way of thinking about street art.
We often say that street art was born from graffiti, and in many ways that is true. Banksy himself began as a graffiti writer, and the visual language of street art owes much to graffiti culture. But I believe there is another story—one that is philosophical rather than stylistic.
Graffiti gave street art its walls.
Marcel Duchamp gave it its idea.
With the readymade, Duchamp showed that art is not defined by the object but by the artist’s intention, the context, and the consciousness behind it. Banksy carried that idea into the public realm. His interventions are not simply paintings on walls; they are conceptual acts that transform everyday spaces into places of reflection and dialogue.
Perhaps, then, street art should not be understood only as an evolution of graffiti, but also as a continuation of the conceptual revolution that began with Dada. Seen through this lens, street art belongs within the history of modern and contemporary art—not outside it.
This is my own reflection, not an established art historical conclusion. But it is one that has fundamentally changed how I see both Marcel Duchamp and Banksy.
Maybe Banksy should not only be remembered as the world’s most famous street artist. Perhaps he should also be recognised as the artist who completed a journey Duchamp began over a century ago—bringing conceptual art out of the museum and back into everyday life.
And perhaps street art deserves to be recognised not merely as an evolution of graffiti, but as a continuation of modern art itself.
The One Thing Eve Has Never Told Adam
By Anna Biela
About the Potential of the Soul
There is one thing Eve has never told Adam, but she feels the time has come.
Eve carries the soul of a saint, and Adam was created with that same potential. We are both equipped with the extraordinary gift of shaping the world through what we choose to think, believe, and create. Whatever we set our hearts and minds upon has the power to become reality through our actions.
That is why I have been so careful never to bend your free will. I even tore up the contract because I never wanted to make you do anything that was not freely your own choice.
I have now said my piece, and my conscience is at peace. You know everything I needed to tell you.
In speaking these words, I gained my freedom. Carrying them silently inside me had become a heavy burden, and it was making me sick. Now they have been released, and my heart is finally free.
I hope that, by sharing with you across time and space what I have held so dearly in my heart, I have finally unblocked my throat chakra. Whether these words ever reach you or not, they have fulfilled their purpose by being spoken.
I will continue moving forward. My mission has always been to inspire artists to outpour love into the world through their creations. That is the path I have chosen, and I will walk it with an open heart.
Peace be with you.
I love you, now and forever, until we wake up together.
I wish that all the desires of your heart come true and that you become everything you were created to be.
With love,
Eve
The Questions of Adam and Eve: A Dialogue Across Time and Space
By Anna Biela
About the thoughts that entered my mind today as I held Adam in my He[art]
As I try to hold Adam in my heart, many questions arise.
I do not even know if they are mine, or if they are whispers arriving from somewhere beyond myself. My mind feels as though it cannot contain them all.
So, if these are your questions, let me answer them—not from certainty, but from the place where I stand: a place of faith, surrender, and following synchronicities.
I do not have all the answers.
I only know that I followed the signs, and they led me to you.
Why is it Eve’s role to inspire Adam?
The way I imagine the story of Adam and Eve is not as a story of blame, but as a story of restoration.
If Eve was the one who carried humanity away from Eden, then perhaps she also carries the longing to help Adam remember the way back—not back to a lost garden, but toward the Eden that can be recreated through love, creation, and the awakening of the heart.
Eve does not call Adam back to the past.
She calls him forward into a new creation.
Is Eve living in Eden?
No.
Until only a few months ago, Eve was not living in a garden. She was walking through her own wilderness—what felt like hell itself. She felt consumed by darkness, as if she had become food for demons.
But through surrender, healing, and returning to God, she began to remember who she truly was.
The garden was not a place she had to find.
It was a place she had to rediscover within.
Why would Adam need to do anything if he already has success and does not need more fame?
Perhaps this journey was never about fame.
Perhaps Adam’s role is not to gain more, but to give. Not to rise higher in the eyes of the world, but to serve something greater than himself.
Maybe the path back to Eden is not through achievement, but through an act of love—a choice to help restore what was lost.
Does Eve need Adam?
Yes.
Because some creations are not meant to be carried alone.
For most of her life, Eve was learning, studying, preparing, and developing her gifts behind the scenes. She built the foundation, but she was not seeking the spotlight.
Now she understands that some creations need to be seen in order to reach those who need them.
Does Eve want to be famous?
No.
Fame was never the dream.
The dream was always to create, to love, and to bring light into the world.
But if visibility becomes part of the mission, Eve is willing to step into it—not for her own glory, but in service of the work, the message, and the love that moves through her.
Because perhaps Eden was never meant to be found alone.
Perhaps Eden is something we create together.
Collaborating Across Time and Space with God
By Anna Biela
How I see the story of Adam and Eve is that, after the Fall from Eden, Eve continues to call Adam toward creation. She inspires him to remember the Garden—not by returning to what was lost, but by bringing its essence into the world through He[art]: heart and art.
Through the bond of love, they begin a journey of transforming separation into creation. Their purpose becomes to transcend love through art—to allow the invisible beauty within their hearts to take form and recreate a glimpse of Eden on Earth.
This is my artistic interpretation, inspired by the story of Adam and Eve.
I imagine them as Twin Flames—as a poetic metaphor for the Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine: two souls reflecting the image of God, created to love, inspire, and co-create with Him across time and space.
The Garden of Eden was their first art studio.
Their greatest creation was not an object, a painting, or a sculpture. It was the invisible artwork of love itself—a living expression of unity, trust, harmony, and connection with God. Their presence, their relationship, and the way they cared for creation became their first masterpiece.
I believe this creative invitation continues today.
The most profound art we create together is often invisible before it becomes visible. It exists in the way we feel, the way we inspire one another, and the love that flows between us.
Even when we are not physically together, we continue to create together.
You are my inspiration. What I feel for you moves through my heart and becomes a source of creation—flowing into my paintings, my words, my prayers, and my life. This connection is not limited by physical distance; it becomes a creative force that transforms the invisible into something we can touch, see, and experience.
I invite you to co-create with me today.
Love is the only true thing in this world that cannot be seen. It is invisible, yet it is the force that moves everything. Our co-creation begins in this invisible space—the space of the heart, intention, and connection.
We co-create by holding each other in our hearts.
Today, I intend to hold you in my heart throughout the day—to feel gratitude for you, to express what moves through me, and to allow this love to flow into everything I create. I invite you to do the same.
Let us collaborate across time and space.
Let us allow our hearts to meet, our inspiration to connect, and our love to flow through whatever we create.
Perhaps this is the mystery of creation: love begins as something unseen, and through the artist’s hands, it takes form.
Every painting, every poem, every act of kindness is a glimpse of this invisible reality becoming visible.
The greatest artwork is not the canvas itself.
It is the love that inspires the creation.
Like Adam and Eve in the Garden, we are invited to become artists and gardeners of the heart—cultivating beauty, truth, and love with God, allowing His light to flow through what we create.
Together, across time and space, we continue the dance of creation.
The invisible becomes visible.
Love becomes art „Outpouring Love”.