Gina Bacon Kerr would like us all to pause a moment. To think about each other; what and who we are and how we contribute to our world. Often, in the hustle of our daily lives, we forget to challenge our own assumptions and belief systems — to stir up the pot.

It would be easy for her to forget. She works full time at Philpotts & Associates, is a wife, mother and grandmother, and yet somehow carves out the time to make art at the Honolulu Printmakers studio.

Kerr says she draws her energy from the community of artists that she supports, that supports her, and that she has come to respect and admire.

"Pause a Moment" is not a solo show. Kerr, who is more comfortable in a community of creative energy, turned the show into an interactive exhibit process by including friends Barbara Okamoto (monotype and sculptural works) and Jefferson Finney (assemblages).

Inspired by the shrines of Guatemala, Kerr printed a frame on paper from a lithograph she made. Then, she proceeded to encourage 10 artists to "play" with her shrine-shaped framework.

Stirring up the artistic pot, she let the creative ideas emerge without attempting to control the outcome. Elaine Seaver, Tamara Moan, Jerry Mayfield, Harinani Orme, David Smith, Barbara Okamoto, Mary Philpotts McGrath, Kandi Everett, Elizabeth Kent and Linda Spadaro agreed to join her print party. A huge welded steel sculptural piece, with natural fibers, "A Habit of Momentum," included fellow collaborators Jonathan Staub and Michael Kerr (her husband), and hangs from the ceiling in the center of the second-floor gallery.

The evening the exhibit opened, Kerr also invited master dance choreographer Yukie Shiroma of Monkey Waterfall dance theater company, along with master storyteller Nyla Fujii-Babb, to do a performance art piece entitled "Bones (a fragment)," assisted by Michael Harada and House of Poodle. Masked and costumed performers circulated through the crowds before the performance.

The energy that evening was extraordinary and memorable, proving that sometimes it is a symphony of creativity that makes the soul sing.

Kerr graduated from the University of Hawai'i-Manoa in 1976 with a bachelor of fine-arts degree in weaving. Since graduation, she has pursued other art forms (specifically watercolor, and printmaking in the past four years) realizing that the solitude of weaving did not appeal to her. She has participated in 25 group and juried shows locally, a print exhibit in Europe and has won awards for her submissions.

"Pause a Moment" also includes Kerr's "Think Peace" — a stack of printed sheets that can be made into folding books. Free art. She encourages visitors to take one.

"Art is for everybody," she says, "not just for people who can afford it. Paint it, put words on it. Collaborate with me."

Kerr took time to answer some questions about her show:

Q. What made you decide to collaborate on this exhibit?

A. I enjoy being in the company of other people doing their art — the voices and the comments. The mix gives me enjoyment in my process. If I work in isolation, my prints have a certain flavor. That is not the flavor that I wanted for this show. Looking along the wall, every piece is different. It's a new experience. I created the environment for these flavorful experiences rather than having one exploration by one person with the same voice. I've put together many shows over the last five years and based on that experience, I was looking for a more fun environment and the chance to think differently about my own work. I think it was a good learning experience for me and the people who participated. The upstairs gallery is well suited for this kind of experimentation.

Q. What did you learn from all this collaboration?

A. The artists handled the framework in so many different ways that it unhinged my presuppositions of what should go in there. It further informed me of how rigidly closed my beliefs are about the world, how much more wide-open everything is, and how unexpected and delightful people really are — (it convinced me) to accept the wild strangeness of the person sitting next to me and what the invited artists did to release my expectations.

If I work in my studio creating 30 pieces for an exhibit, I check out a lot. Personally, I am not that engaged if I am not in community. I do not find my sustenance in a 2-D art show that sits quietly in a gallery. The static quality of that doesn't have enough breath to keep me alive. I find my sustenance in the whole process of community. And, I think the performance people have that-community, immediacy and purity of intention.

Q. What made you think that you wanted to be an artist, or a weaver for that matter?

A. My high school art teacher said I should pursue art, and then an art professor at UH pulled me out of a foundation art class and told me that I should pursue something else. So, I hid in weaving because I believed him — that I was no good. I liked that weaving was process-oriented, but I did not like the solitude of it. Seven years ago, I took a watercolor class at UH, and four years ago, I joined the Honolulu Printmakers. Of course, all of my present work is informed by my years as a weaver. Art is kinder now, and there is more encouragement to continue in my art community. For me, there are magic moments with art.

Q. Have you been found out? You usually sign your artwork "Gallyn."

A. Well, yes. I suppose I have. I didn't get back to the director in time to have the publicity changed. Gallyn is the initial of my first name and my middle name — Allyn.

Q. How did you go about the selection process?

A. I wanted a range of voices and media, so I selected quilters, printmakers, watercolorists and other artists. Not everyone I invited said yes. Then, just when I started taking myself too seriously, Kandi Everett came along and asked if she could participate. Her opaque watercolor, "Dear Saint Helium," really does make you pause a moment. I wanted to create a narrative based on looking at all these random renditions. My husband, Michael, a retired ironworker, made the base pieces for the hanging and did the welding. It weighs 80 pounds and is on swivels that can catch a 1,000-pound marlin. It turns in opposite directions and creates a fuller experience by reorienting the gallery space away from the walls. I've been working on mobiles with Jonathan Staub for two years. We generally make them out of long bamboo and hang them in his high trees.

Q. What advice would you give other artists that want to collaborate?

A. Release any preconceived idea of the outcome, so that you can truly hear what the other person has to offer. You can react to that immediately and presently, rather than going back to your notion of how you want it to turn out. Release your expectation! You are playing with them at the current edge, right here, just playing at the moment right ahead of you. The outcome is built on moment by moment interaction, not something you've been wed to in the past. It's not scary if you are surrounded by a community of supportive people. It's a constant discipline to relax from wanting to take control.

Victoria Gail White has been writing art reviews for The Advertiser since 2001. She is a fiber artist, teacher and former art gallery owner.