i don’t know why i thought it would all still stay the same. sure, i knew that i wouldn’t be able to just sit down and paint whenever i felt like it. but i didn’t even consider what it would take to get into that space again. to push past exhaustion and knowledge of ‘she’s sure to wake up in 30 minutes for another feed- so i’d better bathe/eat/clean/nap/brush-my-stanky-teeth‘. one day, i think that i’ll be figure out how to hone that 30 minute into curves and lines on a piece of paper. the next blip of 30 minutes to stir paint about with a brush. that i’ll somehow find a leash for the muse and keep her tied up for whenever i have time for her. bottle her up and store her on the shelf.
before, the luxury of staying up all night- when she’s (muse) at her finest. crawling into bed only to have to get right up, because you have to sketch out something or else you won’t be able to sleep. daydreaming about characters- women you want to paint and tell their story. scribbling in the dark onto a piece of paper.
eh, the luxury of typing a sentence with two hands. or a paragraph without stopping to… {insert picking up waking babe to rock her, and completely melting at the sweet smile she gives when she sees me…} what were we talking about? i don’t ever want to do anything else but this. look at my babe. cuddle her. sing to her. right in this moment.
see what she just did to me?… i was about to delete this whole silly post after that. why would i ever want anything more than her, this, right now. mmmm sigh.
i found an artist this morning- who spends her days creating and buying art supplies. who is afreakingmazing. who can spend all the live long day playing with a new style, just because. who gets hired by big names, and small ones. pushed to try something new, and succeeds.
it reminds me of when i used to tease myself with the brochures of art schools. all of those amazing, creative people in one beautiful place… and then i said ‘fuck it’. i don’t need to be taught art. art just is. creativity flows. art school is always there– a chance for love is fleeting.
and so i chose love, adventure, travel. and a sketch book to bring along the way. (it doesn’t hurt that i chose a man that believes in and supports my crazy, messy ways.)
i chose my dream – instead of being side tracked and wasting time.
but that doesn’t mean i don’t daydream of being taught. forced to find my way through a new medium. be harshly er…helpfully criticized- so that way i am always improving. lust after art supplies, ideas, things. be a part of a world that i’m involved in, but only by the tip of my pinky toe- not really having any idea of what goes on in that world. amateur. flying by the seat of my pants. (does that even make sense? i’m not sure..)
i know that this is a popular discussion among mamas. the art of balance. of pursuing your passions while living your dream, raising your family, living in the moment. now that i’m on this side, i see what they mean. it goes so much deeper than finding the time.
i can’t fully explain, plus i’m typing one handed-of course
it’s challenging, and an amazing opportunity to really become the artist that i want to be. to mother the way i want to. to love and live, and find a dance to our own rhythm.
she is my teacher… pushing and forcing me to learn a new way. to try new things. to challenge myself. to become better and better. she is exactly what i said i needed. a new medium. critique. constantly evolving in front my eyes- forcing me to change, to transform with her. pushing my boundaries. she is my teacher.
our clocks were reset last night. winter is now officially upon us. oh my. i’m already thinking of spring… er..