Follow the Yellow Brick Road ("I Can")
This summer, after giving birth to my son, Oren, I felt a switch. I had a shift. My brain could no longer hold too much at once, or at all, and I found myself only able to focus on one thing outside of my baby and the necessary housework: art.
Anything to do with art felt like breathing to me — breaths I desperately needed to feel like myself as everything around me slipped, slurred and turned upside down. I went down as many art rabbit holes as I could find. I started listening to the podcast of an artist I’d followed since 2013 back in Philly — Ekaterina Popova’s Art & Cocktails Podcast — and that led me to other artists, books and podcasts.
Ekaterina Popova. A piece from her garden collection, and “June Dusk”.
Then through the web (both cyber and creative), I connected with Michelle Schultz and began binging her podcast as well, She Who Paints. As someone whose MySpace name shamelessly stated “/shewillpaint,” this felt besheret.
Recently, on She Who Paints, Michelle interviewed Kristin Ruscher on navigating art fairs, marketing and more. As I listened to Kristin describe the moment she dove fully into art, having had time off from her career for the first time, it hit me like writing behind my own eyes.
Michelle’s podcast featuring Kristin Ruscher, “The Empress” by Michelle center, and “The Island of Texas” by Kristin on the right.
This is exactly how I feel, and felt, loving this new journey where I can take care of my baby and pretend the only work I have is my artwork. Making paintings, taking photos on my stroller mommy walks for paintings, priming surfaces, measuring pieces, shipping art and updating my website. Uploading sketchbooks, organizing collections, using up old supplies and making new drawings. Writing about art and buying books which I learn about on my favorite art podcasts.
It’s an immersion I’d only ever dreamed of but always pushed to the side to prioritize the more accepted form of being a “proper adult.” I.e., stable, consistent jobs that served my immediate needs of rent, bills, groceries, and clearing my debt. (Bonus points if I liked my job and the community.)
Then, this summer, thanks to Colorado’s FAMLI program (shout out!) I was able to take a small break from worrying about all of that stuff and just see what happens.
Around this time, I also began to crave owning others’ art and support artists. Instead of just knowing the artists in my life by name and face — frequently fellow art students — I began to really connect with their art.
Callie Connors. “Waiting for Spring” and “Purple Garden.”
I love Callie Connor’s paintings — vibrant, unapologetic dabs, strokes and shapes built up with satisfying density of color. I also love the works of Emma Barnes, which feel like you’ve just excavated something magical from a different universe.
Emma Barnes. Pieces from her collection, “Tide, Tied, Time.”
I love all the people in my life, but suddenly I craved a more intimate art community — a place to exist among those prioritizing the same brain space as me, all wanting to live inside the belly of Art.
I’ve loved watching my fellow mom and soul sister Sienna Martz step boldly into her career as a full-time, international sustainable fibers artist. I’ve felt real, parallel joy as my friend, fellow artist and mama, Ines Cochrane collected her postpartum thoughts, feelings and experiences into a special postpartum journal for new moms going through the same thing. (Available soon @risegentlyjournal)
Sienna Martz in her at-home studio. Photo by Joy Masi.
The less I tell myself “I can’t,” and the more I wonder “what if,” I uncover bigger and bigger hidden gems, aligned people, materials, books, podcast episodes that tell me I can. It’s a reminder that when we thing we’re stuck in one reality, we can actively make choices to tune into the frequency of another.
I encourage you all to check out these amazing women, and remember that your life isn’t set in stone.If we stay open to the flow and whispers (or shouts) of our inner voice, bit by bit and gem by gem we can redirect our energy and recolor our experience. We can play and build worlds and create an existance that truly inspires us to the core!