There are many points in which my art and life as mom collide. Sometimes they are fantastic, some times they are frightening.
I had a frightening one this week. I was sitting on the floor watching my amazing 7mo roll around reaching and grabbing. And I just got sucked in, into the amazingness of the moment. I just watched him with no filter. Just being there with him. While I watched I marveled at his little body, his little fingers, the plumpness, the muscles beneath that, and even deeper the tiny precious bones that support the living body of my baby. I freaked. The cold sterile thought of analyzing his bones and muscles away from the amazing being that he was just terrified me. It stopped me cold. Sometimes the things your artistic self sees, just frightens the hell out of the parent in you. Do you keep looking on in that cold analytic way, gathering as much visual information as possible from the being in front of you? Or do you stop, with draw your inner eye and breathe deep to make the images go away?
Today, no pictures, no funny anctedotes. Just some words.
Last night was my first show. Now I never dreamed I would ever have a REAL art show. I never thought it would be in a major city. I never dreamed I would be downtown, hanging out with all the people who go out past 9o’clock at night and have a life, talking to them about my life and my artwork. It seemed surreal.
But today… Today I am tired. After a night like last night, when I was perfectly dressed, makeup on, smelled amazing and wore heels for 8hours ( see what I mean, SURREAL) I am tired. More so, I feel centered. Last night when complete strangers walked by my work, sometimes they would walk quickly, not hardly a glance ( which shook my confidence) sometime I would see only one or two of my pieces would draw them in ( made me question myself and my art) and than there were people who LOOKED, I mean really looked. And they talked to me, encouraged me and really seemed to get me, my artwork. Those few people gave me reassurance that I wasn’t some crafty-mom-gone-mad -trying to make her life seem more artistic. They saw what I see when I look at my paintings, moments, angles, tenderness and light. They understood that even though I painted my family, my kids, that the subject matter wasn’t trivial. It is important. Very important. Because at the end of the day, what I really share is the amazing experience we have as humans, as parents, as beings that experience. It sounds ridiculous and lofty when I right it out like that. But when you open yourself for even the tiniest of moments, aren’t we all a little ridiculous and lofty?
But today I am tired. Tired but eternally grateful for the family I have in my life and the love and support they share with me.
Thank you Family for making one of my dreams come true.
(Now, who’s next? Artie? 🙂
On Tuesday I published a Sarcastic Mom because I felt it was relatable, but it wasn’t the one I wanted to post.
This is the one I wanted to post:
And I will be honest I felt guilty about it. Guilty for not being honest about it, with myself and with my Sarcastic mom. So far Sarcastic Mom has been a direct reflection of my life, but I was ashamed to show you, what really my life is like right now. Sometimes, Sarcastic Mom’s are hard to do, they are too real. I wonder what do people think of me? How bad of a parent do I think I am? But this, this is how I vent, in the healthest way I know how. I have an art show coming up, and its starting to consume my brain so this week, making me feel like a very, very guilty mom.
I will admit it, this week the boys are not getting 100% mom. Mom’s brain is elsewhere, busily trying to figure out how it is all going to get done, if its good enough, what to do if its not, and than taking a deep breath, potty training, changing diapers and putting togethor puzzles. We lost a car 2 weeks ago in a car crash and the washer has decided to quit, so everything feels a little overwhelming right now, especially when it comes to thinking about how we are going to replace them. I am not being a bad mom, my son actually was sitting and playing with his dad when I drew this but I know they know I am not 100% with them.
So why do this? Why stay up late and work on these when I should be in bed so the next day I can give 100% to my kids. Besides the obvious that Dr. Who and drawing around midnight is a great activity. This is a document for my boys, so someday maybe they will laugh a little about our early days. Maybe they will just sigh deeply and go “Moooooommmmm…” Other people scrapbook, write and collect memorabilia, and although I have tried doing that it never fits as well as this does. Whenever I am lost I draw, and motherhood as we all know is a rocky path. So draw I will… and I will try to be real no matter how unflattering it is…