Saturday, March 23, 2013

a pinhole of opportunity

"What if DG never sees me draw?" I thought the other day, with a pang. I got out the crayons. We colored a bit, drew some doggies, some kitties and a ball ("ba!"). I couldn't help noting that we needed better crayons, with richer colors. 

Old me would notice something like that. 

I hate that it is hitting me now, with a family and a day job, no stability or money and no clue of how this is going to pan out, but I think I'm ready to pursue illustration. 

Part of me thinks this is the way it has to be. I have less free time and more responsibilities than ever before. But I've also taken a bigger bite of that thing called human experience. Suffering, longing, sacrificing, giving, taking, losing. I think I have a better idea of what I want to say. 

I don't mean that I know what I'm doing. I fully admit that my plans are vague, hatched from inspiration, sleep deprivation, and a yearning for more than the status quo. I know I have a lot to do and I know the odds are stacked against me and that I'm not the greatest artist out there and I might not get anywhere. 

But I also know that I'm not using my gift. I've been waiting for my window of opportunity for too long. What if life is always way too hard, and there's never a window of opportunity? 

I guess I'm creating that window. Well, call it a pinhole for now.

3 comments:

Jonathan said...

It's kind of like getting married or having kids- if you wait for the "right" moment, you'll be waiting forever

Jenny Anne said...

This reminds me of the time Violet told my sister, "Mommy used to play the fiddle." "She doesn't play anymore?" "No. Now she just makes lunch. And dinner." It was strangely validating to hear her say that - a childish version of my exact feelings about the tension between responsibility and creativity. But I think you're so right that the one actually informs the other - that when you have less time, you actually have more to say! And like all things related to motherhood, the guilt can easily convince us that we've no right to invest our very limited energy into something self-indulgent...we forget that when we investing in becoming authentic versions of ourselves, we actually are investing in our children in ways we can't even quantify. I love this, and I can't wait to see what beautiful things come from it! XO

Andrea said...

That is so funny/sad/cute what Violet said- so perceptive. You are someone I look up hugely to in the artist-mommy realm and I so appreciate your encouragement. I totally agree with what you say about investing in our children by investing in becoming authentic versions of ourselves. It is SO much easier said than done, but we have to try!!