On Creating and Motherhood
The last couple of months as I have made the decision to pursue art and young life I have been asked an abundance of the same question about my art. Its something along the lines of, when or how did you become creative?
I know that art gives me life. I have been given hands and eyes that see things and is able to create things specific for me and me alone. The work ahead of me I believe to be meaningful and intentional, set aside by the creator of the universe for me to do.
That being said, one large piece of the puzzle if you will that made me the artist I am is my mother. I don’t know that I have always seen it that way, but it is so true. My mother has played an influential role in my creative journey.
If you walk into my Mom’s house you will see a litany of different pieces of art I have done from age 4 to 22. Every Christmas she pulls out a watercolor I did when I was 4 years old of two reindeer’s, a mama and a baby Rudolph of course. My signature is literally the same size as the reindeer mind you. Every time I go home I beg my mom to give me back paintings I cant stand that I did years ago. But she would never let me take them. I always tell her I will paint her something new with the old stretchers, but it will never happen. Because she has always supported my art, even before anything I did was note worthy.
I have daydreams, not many because I try to be present and live in today. But one thing I daydream about is being a mother. One thing I specifically daydream about it my house, the rooms my kids will live in. I want to paint them crazy murals on their walls. If they want a castle I will paint them a castle. If they want dinos or space or cowboys, I want to paint something ridiculous. I was telling my mom this and the first thing she said was, “But you have to let them do it.” In my mind I was thinking, “No, its my house I want to paint it and make it how I want it.” In middle school my mom let me paint a mural on my wall. I painted an island, monkey’s, palm trees, the works. Looking at it now, you could just say I have technically come a long way. But it wasn’t ever about that for my Mom. It still isn’t.
My mom always put me in front of a blank canvas, and has encouraged me along the way to paint it. She pushed me and has continued to speak positively in my ears even when my own voice is much more critical than it used to be. She makes me excited to be a mom. If I do half as good as she has done, I will be one kick ass mom.
