You might not know from the content on this blog, but I got a BFA in painting and drawing nearly 5 years ago. I can’t believe it’s already been that long. It’s also been that long since I’ve picked up the oil paints.
Not long after I graduated college, I got pregnant with Penelope. I moved on to watercolor paints, because I love them, they’re less toxic and are ultimately less mess. In the last year I haven’t even done much watercolor either. I’ve pretty much stuck to lettering and all the other hobbies I blog about.
I hate that. I never wanted to be the girl who didn’t become a real “artist” after graduating with her BFA. It was always a big topic in my art school as it was about 80% women. Can an artist be a good mother? Can a mother even be an artist? I hated those discussions. It was like my art career was doomed because I was a woman and wanted a family.
I try to be a good mother. I really try. But laundry never gets done, I rarely do the dishes and my children get bathed twice a week if they’re lucky. More if they get really gross, but still.
I try to have artistic/creative experiences, too. I’m not planning on showing at a gallery in SoHo anytime in the near future, nor do I want to for that matter. Often times I feel the “high art” of our generation is not home friendly or family friendly, for that matter. There are a couple of contemporary “high artists” that I really look up to and would love to meet someday. But I feel like that particular industry is not friendly to my old-fashioned values and views on beauty.
This is why I love blogging. I can make it whatever I want it to be.
And now I’m picking up my dusty oil paints.
