Little Handprints slip away, day by day, getting bigger, leaner. Did I take enough handprints? Have I captured enough of the baby stage? It’s almost over now, the baby stage. I felt something yesterday I never thought I would feel, as I watched an acquaintance of mine, another mom at Fionas school, take care of her newborn baby, with his little infant cries and his squishy infant face, I actually longed to hold him, to go back to the moments Jack and Fiona were first born, to hear the little grunting in my ear as I burped them, to feel their little heartbeat on my chest as they slept. Before Jack and Fiona were born I would decline any and all offers to hold someone elses baby. I had no interest in babies or even a desire to have one, not like the women who said, “I knew I wanted kids” or “my life wouldn’t be complete without kids” I never felt like that, not ever. Until now.The Experience has been the most difficult and challenging thing I’ve ever encountered. I’ve had to become a thousand me’s to be enough for the role I find myself in. I give and give and give. This in itself is huge, to give yourself up, to learn to become a mom, a wife. To learn how to think with the mind of four instead of one, but to protect myself and care for myself just as vehemently, to give myself what I need, to still follow my dreams.
I’m doing it, I’m learning how. It’s an ever challenging battle, not easy. Last night Jack and Fiona stayed up late, 9:30pm. But they ate a great dinner and were in good moods, the day actually went smoothly, as if what I wrote, my hope for a peaceful day manifested. I’ve been finding this happening often, things I write become true, like the day I was prepared for mass chaos, that’s what I got. I’m not saying it’s that simple, But could there be something going on? Something to do with intentions? Intentions being aired out in a public sphere, no where for them to hide? They become me? My world? OR am I just learning how to deal with toddlers better, it takes me a few days to catch up to them they change so fast.
Anyhow we went down to the nursery, had bathtime, pajama time, crazy time, book time, then to my delight- snuggle time. For a brief, maybe five minutes, both babies cuddled next to me, one on each side, kneeding their blue blues. It was so sweet, not fighting or pushing each other away, just quiet cozy bliss. Then it was over, Jack got up first, started pulling my hair, then Fiona started messing with Jack, then they wanted water. “Ok guys, time for bed, mommy’s going to bed now”
Just thinking about intentions and things coming to fruition I’d like to talk about my career as an artist. It’s wonderful! The creating, the making, the learning, the other artists I spend time with, it’s the best. But there’s alot of difficult parts to being an artist. The main one, that I’m sure I don’t need to tell anyone who’s been reading my blog is that I, and I know many artists are in this same boat, am very emotional and sensitive. World events, I’ve been trying not to pay attention to the bombs that have been going off in Turkey and Indonesia the past two days, or the continuing crisis of the refugees fleeing Syria, not because I don’t care deeply, but because it depresses me so much. It sends me in a tail spin if I study world events too much.
Studio time can be both gratifying and torturous. Less torturous now than in the past. I’ve learned to really let go, to move on and to understand that it’s all process.
The business side of being an artist is the hardest part. It’s time consuming and costs money. It’s hard when I don’t have any money coming in. I always think, “If only I made money” For some reason I’ve always felt that would make things better. The only way to make money as an artist is to sell work. The only way to sell work is to have my beautiful paintings on display! So that is my intention. I want to start selling. I need to. I have wonderful things, they will bring years of enjoyment to their new owner. I can say this from personal experience, my husband bought some work from my friend and artist Heather Wilcoxon. I look at her paintings everyday, I love them. I love all the art in my house. People should start buying art. They won’t regret it.
Well, dawn is becoming morning, sky getting bright, house getting light, Friday! It’s still quiet, babies still sleeping. Today will be a good day, I’m not even going to stress today. It’s an art day. I think I’ll make breakfast for Jack and Fiona now and a second pot of coffee. The one I made this morning sucked! Too weak!
Anyhow, I usually don’t do this, talk to you like I’m talking to you, or use the word you in my writing, but this morning I’d like to wish you a very good day or night, a very pleasant weekend, and to thank you for reading my blog!