For Canessa Thomas, showcasing Shakti in Midtown Atlanta’s Outdoor Art Gallery is both a personal milestone and a powerful act of connection. Rooted in themes of energy, healing, and self-discovery, the piece invites passersby to pause and reflect beyond the rush of daily life—transforming public space into a moment of introspection. Returning to exhibit in the city she once viewed from afar, Thomas describes the experience as a deeply meaningful full-circle moment, where art becomes not just something to observe, but something to feel, explore, and carry inward.
Canessa, your piece Shakti was selected for a year-long installation in Midtown Atlanta’s Outdoor Art Gallery. What did it mean to you to have your work featured in such a prominent and publicly accessible space?
Having my work featured in Midtown Atlanta’s Outdoor Art Gallery has honestly been one of the highlights of my art career. It felt really validating, but also exciting in a way I didn’t fully expect. Just knowing my work is out there, in a public space where so many different people can experience it—it means a lot.
I love that it creates an opportunity for connection across all kinds of people—the collector, the art lover, someone who just enjoys beautiful things, or even someone who’s never really thought about art before. The idea that anyone can come across my work and feel something… that’s really special to me.
Having been born and raised just outside of Atlanta, how does exhibiting your work in the city now feel like a full-circle moment in your artistic journey?
I’ve had my work exhibited internationally, but there’s something really special about seeing it displayed in the heart of my home state’s capital. Like you mentioned, I grew up just outside of Atlanta—in Griffin, to be exact. I’m a small-town, country girl, and back then, Griffin had only one high school. Trips into Atlanta felt like a big deal, something to brag about.
And now, to have my work right in the middle of that “big city”… it’s both a dream come true and a true sense of coming home. It’s full circle in the most satisfying way.
Your work is rooted in expression, release, and connection. How do those themes come through in Shakti, especially in an outdoor, everyday environment?
“Shakti” means power, force, energy—and that’s exactly what she carries in the piece. She’s looking at the moon, which I think of as this symbol of our desires, our inner feelings, even the parts of ourselves we haven’t fully acknowledged—our shadow selves. The gold spiral up her spine represents that energy moving through her.
To me, Shakti is all about healing—about letting go of what no longer serves us so we can step into something new. She’s moving toward a new way of being, discovering pieces of herself that might have been hidden or buried. And in order to truly heal, we have to face both our light and our dark and trust that we can emerge whole.
Placing her outdoors just felt right. She’s moving in a space that’s alive, where the sun and moon both light the way. She mirrors that movement, that flow, inviting anyone who sees her to pause and look beyond the day-to-day rush. There’s this little spark inward—an invitation to reconnect, reflect, and maybe even rediscover a piece of yourself.
This installation allows people to encounter your work outside of traditional gallery walls. How does that change the way you think about audience interaction and engagement?
I love that Shakti is being seen outside of gallery walls. Art is for everyone, but not everyone feels comfortable walking into a gallery—or even realizes just how much beauty those spaces hold. This installation is a free, open invitation: come as you are, however you are. You’re not disturbing a space—you can grab a snack, take your time, and just gaze.
What excites me most is the openness and freedom it creates. It offers people a chance to engage with art in their own way, at their own pace, and maybe even stumble upon something that sparks them unexpectedly. That’s the kind of connection I hope for.
What do you hope both locals and visitors take away from experiencing Shakti as part of the city’s daily rhythm?
I hope that anyone who encounters Shakti—locals and visitors alike—takes away a little courage: the courage to explore, to face the unknown. I want them to feel curious—not just about art, but about themselves. Not just on the surface, but in a way that goes a little deeper—how art can speak to them, and how they, in turn, speak and resonate with themselves.
