I am a Mother-Artist

I didn't come up with the term 'mother-artist'. That's what Christa Wells calls herself. And years ago, I wouldn't have called myself that, but when I read what she wrote... she was describing me all too well.

Because almost everyday, I'm torn between art and housework.

"Ugh, the laundry needs to be hung... but I want to work on this song."

I choose to hang the laundry, because the sun don't wait for nobody, so they say. (or is it the tide?... either way, you get the picture)

"Laundry only takes five minutes to hang, then I can work on the song."

But then something else comes up... a diaper needs to be changed.

That's not housework, that's childcare. No contest... go change the diaper.
(even then, sometimes I would rather ignore the sibling rivalry going on in the other room than stop working)

It's one thing after another. By the time I actually sit down at the piano, I have ten minutes before dinner prep begins. And sometimes, even those ten minutes are interrupted by a minor catastrophe of some sort.

Christa feels the same way. A singer/songwriter, she put aside her music for years to raise a family (which included adopting a child). Meanwhile, she had several Christian musicians (Point of Grace, Natalie Grant) record some of her songs, but she herself thought it was impossible to make her own record.

And now, only after years and years of fighting her fears and insecurities, she's recording an album, and she shares about it on her site. 

Dear Fellow Mother-Artist... she begins. But I'll let you read it for yourself.

What is this drive inside me? I ask myself. Why do I feel pulled in two directions? I'm not on my way to becoming famous or making millions of dollars. I have no reason to do art except... to do it. It brings me joy, it makes me feel complete, it was what God intended for me.

The best way I can describe my life is that I live in two worlds, the world here, and the world of my imagination. In the world of my imagination, stories, pictures, and songs are alive; they are my friends, my family, my next-door neighbors. If I grow quiet and you see me staring into space for a few minutes, most likely I'm visiting that world. And the only way to bring my two worlds together is by writing out the story, or painting the picture, or playing the song to share with people in this world here. Then those people too will become acquainted with the friends, family, and neighbors from my world of imagination. 

If you're an artist, you know how I feel. If you're a mother-artist, I know how you feel. Whether you're a professional painter or a living-room musician, mother of one or mother of nine, be encouraged with the knowledge that someone out there struggles like you do. We long to add to the beauty, to take part in God's great production, and we still can, even if it's only in a small way... for now.

(and if you've never read the short story 'Leaf by Niggle', by J.R.R. Tolkien, you should)