Wooheyyy! I have just submitted my entry to a international artist-parent index.
You can read it here. That website has an amazing interactive map, where you can search for artists of any country and then get directed to their profile with data is included: website, personal art statement, mediums they work with and topics of their creative work. I want to encourage all of my artist-mother friends to sign up to this index - it is a database that will grow (we can forward the link!) and it has the potential to internationally connect artists with their commissioners or with other artists who wish to collaborate. It's great! A couple of years ago, I had an idea to create a database for women artists, I even began to structure it... then I became a mother and tried to redefine it into a "mother artist database", and then... I found out that something like this already exists! Which makes me very happy, and thank you, Sarah, for doing this important and inspiring work. Much love!! Add your entry to the index and become visible on the artist-parents-world map. Click here: Artist Parent Index
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I was walking by the river yesterday, on the way to our another Serendipity Booth adventure.. and I was thinking: "What is the Milk Diaries about? What is this project to me now?".
I got my responses flowing instantly, with my steady step, Saule tucked in the carrier on my back, suitcase in one hand, fresh air in the other... Milk Diaries is about inclusion embracing accepting allowance letting go high creativity bold art imperfection simple things equanimity gratitude gentle parenting mindfulness patience trying new things playing exploring curiosity intuition free flow action mess order harmonising melting boundaries and blocks surrender... And then I realised it's not this project only - in fact, my whole art is about those things. And my whole life!! It may seem like a list of words, yet they are deeply meant, they are accurately describing what I'm aiming for and what I'm now consciously creating everyday... Some days the results are great , some days less great, but I feel the direction in my heart. I breathe through this. These are not words. These are values of great importance, interwoven with my heart's path, with my soul's song. And since, actually, all my art is Milk Diaries now... because all of it is being created as I'm being a mother (and will remain a mother for the rest of my days) - I bow to these.. Sacred Words that form my creation, my being, my forwarding of self to the world, my Service. I feel happy and light today, even though I've eaten far too many tomatoes. I just feel this magnificence - The Magnificence we all are. There are some women I deeply admire
online. They are great creators, prolific artists, pro-health, pro-passion, pro-expression, some of them mothers... very inspiring and beautiful beings! I admire them for their brilliancy on many levels and I feel grateful for that they've appeared in my life and had impact on it with their magic. I have waves of viewing these women's amazing work, and I have had done this for ages without using social media, and now - after quitting them - also without. Their websites is the medium which excites me and interests me the most. But the last week's wave - as some of the previous ones as well - had brought me to feeling particularly... shitty. It's not only this. It is a strange mix between admiring, being inspired, a tiny pinch of envy and that drained, down-feeling. Such a weird compilation. I hate it. Because after all I know what makes it, and it's not them. It is once and for all: my inner critic.* *(Inner critic refers to an inner voice that judges, criticises, or demeans a person whether or not the self-criticism is objectively justified. A highly active inner critic can take a toll on one's emotional well being and self-esteem.) Though I tend to jump right up after falling too far down, and thank God it usually happens quite fast, so today I wrote myself a love note, a reminder, a poem... simply to anchor myself in the knowing that "Their Path" is unique, and that "My Path" is unique also. Here's the note I scribbled in my notebook: They might be all settled over there. Selling e-books, e-courses and meditation kits, recording podcasts and successful youtube videos... You have your own way to go. They might be bestselling on Amazon. You have your own way to go. They might be published authors, touring musicians, wealthy painters... You have your own way to go. They might have a nice, catchy name that's easy spelled and comfortable to pronounce for the English speakers... You have your own way to go. Their website might be all intact, and the clear, shining, big-smiling pictures of their face welcoming new subscribers... You have your own way to go. They might be popular, use social media, have a few thousand blog readers and endless stream of followers... You have your own way to go. They might have their newsletter all worked out, daily studio hours despite of having children, they might be high and far in art and in the world... You have your own way to go. And you will follow it gracefully and clumsily but you will follow your own heart's whisper your own soul's song - one you know forever and one that sometimes scares you so. You have your own way to go. They might be younger than you and already there, have no children, no partners, no cat... You have your own way to go. Everything they are or have or do is theirs and you have your own way to go. Trust in this. Beyond all, close your eyes and listen: as the old stars fall, new stars are being born inside you. It's been a while since I've been in Pilies street with my portable studio shop.. and without my daughter. Today she did not want to join and so I gladly went on my own, making it my artist date at the same time!
(For those who wonder what is an "artist date" - Julia Cameron explains it very well on her website. I am going through her Artist Way course right now.) Today I realised that my frustration and creative block come from having THE SAME EXPECTATIONS at all times.
I saw that I've been carrying a picture of "what I want to create" and "what I want to represent with my art" and somewhere on the way it stopped fitting me. I changed. My daughter changed. Our environment changed, our social life and so many other aspects of life have transformed... And yet I carried on imagining that I should continue to create in a way to match the original design. I created that design. And I created my own frustration. If nothing else - at least it's good for me to understand that. I see now I have to let myself free truly free explode from the canvas stop using whatever media I'm expecting myself to use and just try new things go blind for a while and forget what I used to be what I want to be the mess the order the possible outcomes of whatever. I've been meaning to do so many things WITH Saule.. including her felt like the right thing to do, like a natural thing. But the fact I lost from sight was that I need solitary creative time just as much as I need to creatively experiment with my daughter... That I need to be on my own. Undisturbed. Un-nudged. Sometimes... I need quiet. Not even music. I need to stare in one point for a good while. Maybe fall asleep. Have a dream. Wake up. And still in that silence.... draw a few lines. I am a lone dancer - I need to acknowledge that to go further in my togetherness with Her. It's important to keep in mind, that whatever the image we've wrapped around ourselves, it's not a full image. And the wild, true self will keep emerging. Reminding us... that there's more, and this "more" is unbound. There are no lines to frame our potential and form. Just movement. Constant flow of energy... * This evening my legs got painted with watercolours, but they were not my hands holding the brush. It's been over 10 years since my calves caught the colour like this. Can you believe? Didn't even take a picture, but you can take my word. Children have that ability... to remind us.. constantly remind us of great things by their own motion unbound and constant motion... I remember my Grandpa.
He loved to sing. In his late years, he sang in choir and once in a while they played concerts. He invited me, naturally, and all the rest to of our small family. I don't remember the times I didn't come. But I clearly recall how busy was I most of the time.. and didn't come over. Then there was this one time I also remember crystal clear... when I finally came. It wasn't the first time for me to watch him sing on stage, yet that one was important and particularly strong. I watched him as he got distracted by seeing me and Grandma and then lost his words but still pretended or attempted to follow the lyrics and he made this innocent-little-boy face and shed a few tears... he was so happy. Happy to sing. Happy that we were there. Sharing that time with him, sharing something that was so important to him. And as I think of him, I cannot help but thinking of Saule. The way she asks for my attention, well, surely more often and with more intense than Grandpa did, but yes, she needs me to witness her and to love her in her doings. To feel that what she does MATTERS to me. I see her. I feel her. I watch her. And I am with her..... not often enough. I don't judge myself too roughly and I do not think I am a bad mother, I also am not dramatically trying to be an ideal version of myself but I feel it in my guts - as I feel it in my heart - when the time comes to utter another "not now" and "give me a moment" - that I could BE THERE for my daughter more often. A little more.. often. Today I hear my Grandpa singing the song of contentment. The song of bliss. There is a place where everyone is witnessed and equally important in their shine. He is not waiting for us to show up anymore We did - And I did so many times since He died. I guess I was with Him much more often since His death than in the last year of His life. Well... I hope it's a lie, but I have to live the truth of what it sparks in my heart today. Have you ever had one of theses "NOW OR NEVER" moments? When something you've been neglecting is peeking at you and as you usually said "no", you're tempted to do it again, but you just can't find a good... reason.
Saule fell asleep in the afternoon, and I took out the big canvas I got in store almost a year ago. I've been dreaming of a certain colour and I need to let it out. Also, a sketch from last night (in which Saule had joined me) is telling me something. Lines. Crazy many colourful lines. And today I feel like giving in to this current. I know there's something there waiting for me. I heard the call many times, just I was postponing my answer. I'm adding some backstage pictures to it too ;) Happy Spring everyone! May it blossom in your hearts from the very rich roots you've kept warm since Autumn.. Here's to you, my Little Wonder.
For over the past 3 years now.. I've been observing myself attempting to put our common work into an orderly unit. To place it on the right platform, in the right shape, with the right name and for the right audience.. Blogspot or weebly? Private or public? Saule Laulu? Drawing Snails? Mama Studio? The Fairy and The Unicorn? Where is the good name? ...and the more I try, the more I stay up at night to think, the more I press... the less of an essence on my plate, the less of action in perfect frequency, the less connection with where we are right now.. So let me tell you, that I don't care much.. for the platform or shape, the name or the audience, up-to-date or "memoir like", what-ever-i-make-it... is scared to me. It is my process in motherhood. My holy chaos. My messy mess. And it's all right. It was meant to be clean and neat. It was meant to have archives. Be full of content. And up to date. But it isn't. Because being with you takes more time and effort and engagement than I could ever spare for this blog and gallery or any of my websites and all of them together. Because laundry and dish-washing are my meditation practises too after all and because so much is changing every day. I cannot witness you with a smartphone camera each time you birth your masterpiece. I cannot stand beside you and pose so our artwork would be captured - as it is happening - in duet. I cannot spoil the moments that offer me pure presence and sharing . Not each day not chronologically not on time. I will let you draw on A4 printing paper every day and will hand you the 20th sheet if needed but i will not put myself on duty to document any more I will let myself free to witness and leave things unphotographed Unless there's an undying need right there and then unless there's such a spark of inspiration that images and sentences form around my head like an aura for you truly are the angel you call yourself so kind you sometimes let me to awake under your wings There are things I want to do these days but never get to do them.
Like running, or a proper 1,5 hour session of yoga in the morning, sewing something bigger, meditating while my child is asleep, vacuuming my house (at least once a month!), washing the window panes... And then there are the other things that I do - while my daughter is sleeping, while she's playing her Lego in another room, or while she's at my side or breastfeeding. I write, make notes, sketch, paint, cut and paste with scissors and glue, prepare meals, dance a little, stretch, fold my hands in a momentary prayer, wash some clothes by hand, read a few pages of a book, scrub the stove, go shopping for groceries, sing a song, come up with a new creative idea and record it on paper... There are so many things to do! At times I realise I want too much in one day - everything to fit and be perfect in just a day - impossible! And it would overload me surely. But often I still wish for this: may I have my home the way I want, art progress at the level I want and time with my child in abundance and focus - just the way I want... And then I pause. Or something pauses me. (Whether it is myself or something external is not exactly clear but) I give in... to suddenly "nothing". Doing nothing. And there is just the chair I'm sitting on. Just the steaming tea. Just the window on my left. Just the sound of my daughter's voice calling "maamaa" and just me answering: "I'm coming". And I put my cup down, raise my bottom, move my legs out of the kitchen, and reach for the other room to simply be there. With my daughter or without her - it sometimes doesn't matter. All I need to do is to be. Presence for her or presence for myself - it doesn't matter. Presence for all. Presence for its own sake. This is what saves us. Back in April I began reading Lucy H. Pearce's Rainbow Way. It came to me by post already two summers ago but the other book I ordered with it got my attention more, and though I've been celebrating the Rainbow Way's cover and briefly read through some chapters - I haven't dove into that book before. Now I'm deep under water. It's beautiful how it stretches me! Along with reading it, I started an Art Journal - something I've never done before. Well, not consciously at least. I did have notebooks, wrote and drew in them since I can remember, but never on such a mission like now: to go through the whole book, answer all the questions and complete the tasks on the way, and draw draw drawn, collage, doodle, make a record. It gets really uncomfortable sometimes! But I'm moving forward... Recently I got stuck on the word "renaissance", around which I was supposed to collage all the associations that come to my head. Renaissance just makes me think of school and our boring and harsh history teacher from 3rd grade. Since I know that renaissance means "rebirth", it then overflows me with a whole new sphere of images and meanings. But that's for the rebirth all right - renaissance on the other side is a blind spot, empty page, nothing.... I'm curious to get into my mind like this.. Through somebody's creative guidelines. Through a series of questions. It is much like a therapy. A good therapy. I have time. It's for free. I answer in my own pace. I'm having fun! And I feel the weight. But Lucy had done so much work there already.. laid a blueprint of a healing path for us. I am walking it barefoot and with a light backpack.. I wishto recommend this book, with all my heart, to all the mothers who feel themselves creative or attracted to anything creative. It's been such a blessing for me, I hope you can benefit from it too. Oh, and I let Saule doodle all over my journal. I find it so pleasing, to have that one notebook entirely unrestricted, where I know I go deep, try my best and also try the whatever - and my daughter joins me on the page.. Meets my lines, as I meet hers. One day she might read what I wrote, or write and draw through her own Rainbow Way... As a part of ARiM, I was invited to join the quest of writing down the record of my whole day - 15th July 2019. This particular day was going to be just an arbitrary Monday. Many mothers across the globe did the same on that same day: they wrote down what happened to them... Lenka wrote "Don’t worry if nothing particular is happening that day for you. The beauty of the texts are in the details of an ordinary life, everything is interesting." She also asked to write from midnight to midnight, keep it all in present tense and until about 1500 characters. My original text consisted of almost 6000 characters. You can read both of them here :) SHORTENED VERSION 00:00 Breastfeed my daughter and fall asleep 08:35 Wake up, go to pee and return to bed to breastfeed S. 09:12 Get up, go to the kitchen to wash dishes 10:15 Hang out in the living room with S. and O. 10:45 Breastfeed S., prepare to leave 11:03 Leave home and cycle to the studio. 13:00 Cycle back home. Grocery shopping on the way 13:40 Reach home, lay down to breastfeed S. 14:15 Fold some clothes while S. plays with modeling clay 14:46 Attempt to draw with wax crayons while breastfeeding in the living room 14:50 We lay down to nurse but S. doesn't fall asleep 15:10 Get up, wrap S. in the carrier 15:55 Fold away some more clothes 16:45 Go out to the local playground. Tired. I sit on a bench and cry 17:10 Ask O. to throw me toilette paper from the kitchen window, take the stroller and go for a ride 17:25 Reach the supermarket, get 1 liter of rice milk and Moomin activity book for S. 17:45 Reach the big playground 17:50 My friend comes with her daughter. We sit and talk and the girls play in the sandbox 18:50 Start to move towards home. Girls share the stroller 19:30 Reach home. S. wants some rice 20:00 Sit down to eat 20:10 S. draws on the kitchen table 20:28 Finish hanging laundry 20:46 Go to bathe and brush teeth while in the water 21:30 Turn off the light 22:00 S. falls asleep while nursing. I get up to drink some tea and work on the computer 22:15 S. wakes up, I take her to up to pee. We lay down to breastfeed 22:50 S. is asleep again. I get up and continue writing 23:55 Drink the remains of my cold rooibos tea ORIGINAL VERSION
00:00 I feed S. and fall asleep in the middle of it. Can't remember if I woke up during the night. Very tired. 08:35 I wake up, go to pee and return to bed to breastfeed S. 08:55 I get up to get some toilette paper for S' runny nose. She sits on the bed and picks her nose. For a while there's silence, then S. says that snorts will disappear if she will drink more milk, then she jumps under the blanket to nurse. 09:12 We get up. S. goes to pee. 09:15 I put shirt on S. and leave her in bed drawing, then go to the kitchen to prepare lemon water for us. 09:25 I help S. to dress fully and go to the kitchen to wash the dishes. S. is in the living room playing with her father. 09:55 I put on laundry to wash and prepare grapes for breakfast. 10:10 We eat grapes while making things from modelling clay. 10:15 I put on the pant pad for my period, dress up and hang out in the living room with S. and O. 10:45 I soak sunflower and raisins to eat later in the day, breastfeed S. and prepare to leave for the studio. 11:03 I leave home and cycle to the studio. 11:26 I reach the studio. Finish small painting, rewrite one poem, reread one of my writing practice notebooks and talk on a phone to my friend. 13:00 I leave the studio and cycle back home. Grocery shopping on the way. 13:40 I reach home, go to pee and lay down to breastfeed S. 14:00 O. falls asleep, I leave the bedroom with S. so he could have some rest. I much on fresh dates while we form modelling clay. 14:15 I fold some clothes. S. plays with modeling clay and makes little rainbow rolls. 14:40 I open the washing machine and bring the wet clothes to the bathroom to hang. 14:41 I walk to the living room to throw tiny modelling-clay balls to the toilette paper cardboard roll. S. calls it "throwing balls to the house". Then I escape to the kitchen to do some little washing up. 14:46 I attempt to draw a small triptych with wax crayons while breastfeeding S. in the living room. 14:50 We lay down to nurse but S. doesn't fall asleep 15:10 I get up, wrap S. in the carrier and go to the living room. 15:25 S. wants to leave the carrier. I try to fix the spinning wheel. 15:30 I go to the kitchen to prepare a smoothie for us but don't get to do it and instead I come back to the living room to quickly sweep the loads of dust from where the spinning wheel was standing. S. tries to climb my back, I don't let her, she gets upset and goes to O. 15:45 I put on te water for tea 15:55 I fold away some more clothes 16:00 S. and O. are picking cherries under the blanket in our bed. I realize the water is boiling, then make some rooibos tea 16:15 Trying to get S. to dress fully in order to go out 16:45 We go out to the local playground. S. refuses to be in a carrier. We find a rowan tree and start picking the berries. 17:05 I'm tired. I sit on a bench and begin to cry. S. swings by herself and asks me why I'm crying. 17:10 I ask O. to throw me toilette paper from the kitchen window, take the stroller from our car boot and go with S. for a ride 17:25 We reach the supermarket, get 1 liter of rice milk, 2 limes and Moomin activity book for S. I buy the book secretly but she discovers it two minutes after leaving the shop. 17:40 I call O. He says he will join us soon 17:45 We reach the big playground. S. goes to some lady to show her book. I sit in the sun to rest and knit 17:50 I have a small conversation with grandmother of a girl who plays in the sandbox with S. My friend comes with her daughter. We are surprised and happy to see each-other. We sit on the bench and talk and the girls play together in the sandbox. 18:20 O. comes by for a while, then cycles to work 18:50 We start to move towards home. Girls share the stroller. S. takes B. on her knees. We wave goodbye kisses at each-other and separate. 19:30 I reach home with S. we have some buckwheat left from O's dinner, but S. wants rice 19:40 I cook rice, put batteries from our fairy lights to charge, take off the dirty bed sheet and shake the sand from our blankets while standing on the balcony 20:00 We sit down to eat rice with sunflower oil, salt and tomatoes 20:10 S. asks for more rice without tomatoes, then draws on the kitchen tale and refuses to blow her nose 20:15 I eat more rice without tomatoes. S. keeps on drawing 20:20 S. eats up her rice, says she's eaten it quickly like a cat. 20:22 S. jumps on the bed and I join her for some cuddling-tickling 20:23 S. asks for her Moomin book, then she looks trough it while I'm making the bed 20:28 S. brings the potty to the bedroom and pees into it, asking me to move her bicycle so she could have more space 20:32 S. calls me to read the Moomin book with her. I finish hanging the laundry and invite her to do it with me. She does... for 1 minute, then returns to the book 20:40 S. calls me to fix a torn sticker. I come and put some more stickers in places chosen by her, then wash the potty and put it back in its place 20:46 S. brings the book to the bathroom and goes to bathe. I put the dishes to soak, sweep rice from the kitchen floor and photograph S' drawing. 20:50 I join S. in the bath. We brush teeth while in the water 21:08 S. takes her book and walks straight to bed to play with the stickers 21:30 We turn off the light 21:40 S. gets up to pee and wants to play in the living room. We go back to bed. She jumps, sings and is very eager to talk in English - asks me to translate words and repeats them. 22:00 S. falls asleep while nursing. I get up to drink some tea and soak fruit, grains and seeds for the next day. I munch on sunflower and dates, light 3 candles and go to do some work on the computer. 22:15 S. wakes up, I take her to the toilette to pee. We lay down to breastfeed some more 22:50 S. is asleep again. I get up, put all her soft toys to machine-wash, then sit at the computer to continue with writing. 23:55 I drink the remains of my cold tea, then go to prepare a hot one again. My friend recently told me she would like to learn from me the secrets of productivity, as it seems I am "managing it well". That surprised me... and then I started to wonder whether I even think of myself as productive. I guess I have these waves... when the inspiration calls, and I respond. It's like activating a spiral. It then grows. Ideas build new ideas. Clarity comes. I just need to begin, and it flows on... But that's sometimes. Other times I still find it difficult to be in harmony between the child, home care, husband, being social, being for myself, being creative. Anyway, I am happy with my recent evolving, so I'll agree on the "productivity". Before this year has begun, I was well tied to the domestic duties and most often could not find a way to creatively use the time of Saule's naps. I felt the need to clean, tidy, fold, dust-off, broom, whatever... It was me who tied myself to the domestic duties, and knowing that - I still couldn't get much relief. Of course, at some point the house work needs to be done. As no-one really expected it of me or implied it on me, it was a self-imposed and perhaps after all a very needed part of my days. It was a pathway of becoming a more creative mother and woman. I remember my husband telling me countless times things like: "Look, you don't need to do this now", or "There'll always be something to clean in this house, you can relax", or "She's asleep now, so - 'writing, yoga, painting' - remember?" And it drove me mad, because I needed to wash the dishes til the end, clean the shelves in the veranda till the end, basically do anything TIL THE END, until I could finally sit and immerse myself in my creations... Which hardly ever happened until Saule was 2 years of age. Then things switched. We moved into a new (but in fact very old) apartment, my mother came over from Warsaw to help me bring it into a neat condition, and... art began to flow. Before,I could hardly ever ignore such sight: ...now I was a mistress of it. It even gave me a funny tingle and a nonchalant feeling to simply pass it by and carry on writing. I broke free! And I did more, I did anything. I did imperfectly. I did messily. I finally understood what Leonie Dawson meant by Riding the Wild Donkey - not in theory, but at heart. It is true I sometimes compromised my sleep in order to do more, but that blended into the whole dance, and I could manage it, I could make it in small enough "doses", without feeling depleted. And I was driven by my passion. I believe passion is the thing that matters the most. Your inner fire you kindle yourself, one that sparks atop of any idea you come forth with. So one December evening I started to draw an outline for a snail puppet I wished to sew for Saule as a Christmas gift. I found the suitable shape online and looked for it mostly because I was simply curious of how the other people draw the snails. So there it was. The next morning, I copied the outline and started to colour it in... I liked the image so much, I've hung it in a visible place, under the clock on our kitchen wall. Looking at it, each time brought me so much warmth, I was even smiling.
Something was simmering in me... getting ready... I began to see that snail at the top of my blog (which I run very modestly and showed to few people.) Coincidentally, some weeks before that, Saule began asking me to draw snails... Continuously. Many times per day. Many times in a row... We had pages and pages covered with spirals (snails). Next to the big one, she'd always ask me to draw another, small one. I began to understand the meaning of a snail and related that to my situation. It was clear: we were both snails. I was a big one, my daughter was a small one. I did things slowly, because I was taking care after her and couldn't do much at the same time. She did things slowly, because she was small; her short legs couldn't sometimes catch up with mine, many skills were yet clumsy and in the sweet learning stage. We were two slow creatures. Happily slow. I began to celebrate snails. This is how I started the Milk Diaries. I wanted to celebrate my motherhood through arts. Not do it aside of my daughter, not to get upset about the time that I might be "lacking" or "missing", but to do things in the time that I HAVE and to do them deliberately. I had my own tempo and even if working an hour or two per day would make my general progress slow, I was suddenly OK with that. I knew I would then use these hours to the fullest, would really give myself to them. My productivity increased right there. Things are complete. Whether you believe it or not. You maybe see only one or two steps ahead, but the things in you are already done and perfect. Once you allow and open - they start to flow. Whatever you've been doing, takes a fuller shape, a deeper meaning, a beautiful glow, and it's now visible once you allow. That "allowing" means sometimes not washing up, or writing a total nonsense in your journal, taking a walk to an unknown place, burning old photographs, staying in your pajamas all day, doodling for hours (no matter what chaos around), letting the dust balls roll under the furniture... Allowing means opening yourself up to whatever comes at you, and then just smile at it. Your days will transform. Days lead to Another Days, and every day can be full of art. Sometimes the art lays undone... Whatever time it takes to make it, that is the right time. We've been gifted with a new space to create. The Children Art Gallery.. - really a perfect place for the mother and child art studio!! :D There is a very large table, running water and sinks in the same room where you paint.. they are set low so my daughter can easily access them herself - another step to glowing independence. We are renting it with friends, so already on the first day I could feel the nourishing quality of the time spent there.. while our hands were busy making shapes and colours - our mouth spoke truth and forwarded the heart across the room.
We will be there for a month - maybe two. The whole place inspires me a lot as there is many children artwork being displayed, also in the thee gallery rooms that we pass on the way to our new studio. I feel happy and grateful for this opportunity - our rainbow island in this city before we take off for another adventure in a foreign land, before the autumn leaves nudge us back to the cradle of home and a gentle slumber. Full power. Full engagement right now.. Thank you ♥ Flowing through the days with Saule, creating here and there, I've been recently called again to draw.. but not in a way i remember or used to know. It looks quite like Her way, at times feels like I'm imitating her. But there's something more to it, I feel.. I transitioned from women's bodies and women's faces and cartoonish characters (which I still hope to draw in the future) into something less defined, something pretty wild if you ask me.
We both balance on a white sheet of paper and meander through the crazy lines, finding our peace there, becoming still.. I often look up to peek at her doodles. They are marvelous! Selfless. Expansive. True. I love to watch her. And more than that, I love the fact that I am still able to loose myself in that dance of colours. A few days ago I've stumbled across a term I've nearly forgotten: abstract expressionism. I thought: this is it! This is exactly what we are doing everyday! But I cannot pause my daughter while she's drawing and say "hey look, what you are doing now is called abstract expressionism." It's ridiculous. She's just drawing. Being herself. One day she might dive into photorealism in pencils and produce a stunningly alive portrait of a porcelain cup with daisies in it - still, if until then no one would put an idea in her mind that such thing is unique, or considered a talent, or that it has any sort of a name... - she would just be herself, drawing. Unaware and simply fulfilling her soul's urge to create - surely polished by the years of practice, but otherwise clear of any ideas. I wish you innocence and purity of thought and action, and fulfilling of beauty of your life through creating for the sake of creating. Not due to labels or social preferences and accepted patterns. Only due to yourself. You are free. I am learning this from you. Relearning this.. Rediscovering my primitive and authentic lines, my most basic level, my creative soul's golden thread. There are days when we go out to play on Pilies street, in Vilnius. Late in May, a young man photographer came by and asked if he could take a few pictures... : ) All photographs by Ignas - Fragmentai.lt
A mother to a nearly 3 year old girl. Unemployed by choice and oriented on unschooling, I spend my time outside whenever possible, remain creative and try to sustain my daughter with colourful people and places, meanwhile tending our apartment with all the linked domestic activities.
Thinking of gender equality and my partner’s growing wish of me becoming a second financial provider in the family – I’ve come up with a poem… (A new book is in the making. I am gathering pieces from the time of my pregnancy onward so it will be all motherhood-related and motherhood-inspired.) This is one of my latest and it's called Who Will Pay For My Work or The Multitasker's Blues. * * * Who will pay for my work? I don’t mean paying for my many night hours spent at birthing new arts I don’t mean paying like during the maternity leave – time when a woman is designed to be with child and no distractions anyway – I mean paying for my voluntary leave the-whole-day-with-child work that I do and that is sometimes being called a ‘holiday’ an ‘easy way out’ or a ‘comfort zone’ Who will pay? For those 18-hour-long days always on duty with weight-lifting and much of it long distance often in the heat For the dish washing clothes washing clothes hanging clothes folding and much of it only after the three previous loads has been dropped at the ‘pass-me-by armchair’ Who will pay me for the insane, napless, breast-tugging days with too little sleep and a mild depression creeping in Who will pay me for making of breakfasts lunches dinners suppers night-meals snack-meals breastfeeding infinity meals and much of it done on time wholeheartedly with devotion and joy Love takes time Who will pay for mine? spent on diaper ironing story telling but washing swing swinging ABC reading time love-filled and willingly given away Who will pay for my loyalty, commitment and flexibility Monthly time spent on shopping carrying it home then unpacking and sorting Monthly time spent on sweeping of floors tiding of rooms bringing out and recycling of trash Who will pay for my organising and management skills teamwork, solitary focus and advisorship full-time-any-time repairing speciality ability to deal with stress and innovation in problem-solving? All that while trying to be a person of my choice who loves what she does and does some for herself I paint and write dance and sing craft and stretch balance on the rope ride my bicycle and shine my ideas inside out connecting with people and nature for to make my child’s heart sing I first need to make my heart’s sing the louder – the better All that while drawing snails and sea-horses and snowmans playing lego for hours digging the sandbox taking my sunbeam out to meet the world and interesting people of all ages All that while growing my knowledge and patience and physical pain endurance compromising my needs training for better stamina answering emails writing projects doing interviews running a few websites and having a stolen alone-in-the-bath time All that while still having an idea of being a better mother a better wife a better artist Still having an idea of being more engaged present and gentle attentive, productive, harmonious Still aspiring to become a yoga teacher a published writer a paid artist A quiet morning half-filled cup of chamomile tea after 5 hours of sleep feeling empowered and drowsy enthusiastic exhausted Who will pay for this rainbow chaos work? Who will pay for my plain ticket to the just world? Who will help me to stay on my own two feet with one wallet filled with dignity of no weight and abundant package of dreams? Who will pay me more than a boring 9 to 5 with 7 days off in summer and 7 days off in winter but none on the week when my child is having fever and needs me to stay home? Who will pay me for being home, a domestic goddess crazy artist adventurer and a mother The work i offer my family is not a paid one, though it could be. So if something more is being asked of my workfull freedom – as a change within or a money – sorry, but I don’t give, someone else must. Between March and April, Ideas Block - a creative space + cafe in Vilnius (Lithuania) held my first solo exhibition. For a month I had a "pop-up" studio there, I was working on some new pieces and was taking my daughter with me most of the time. It was my first working-space-out-of-home experience and it helped me enormously... to focus, finish up some older works and organize my tools, projects and new ideas. It was a small room - studio and gallery space 2 in 1. Anybody could pass through if going to the toilette or the back storage room.. and that was a new thing for me. To work while being on display.. Having seemingly my private workshop but actually exposing myself to being witnessed in the progress, or being interrupted :) I loved it all the way. It was the best gift for my 30th birthday : a creative experience. I was very happy to finally put up my works all together and see what I have birthed through the last few years.. also to be able to engage Saule in the whole thing, having her to help me hand the pictures, paint and draw together, use scissors and glue on daily basis and not being distracted by the dishes or laundry next to that. We met many wonderful people! Some of them also creative mothers with children. I feel grateful for those exchanges of ideas and energy, smiles and laughter, feedback and support. I had a place out of home, like a second nest with open door.. and I could go there to play and get inspired! When it got warmer, we cycled there and back. It was approximately 20 minutes one way. I started to feel my muscles again and Saule learned the road by heart, she would exclaim "Panorama!" as we passed the wide view of the city on our right, cycling up the hill. During the whole residency, we made four events: first was the poetry reading at the opening of the exhibition, then the creative writing workshop, the yarn spinning workshop, and (at the closing) - a concert and screening of the "Who Does She Think She Is?" documentary about mother-artists. All of these events were intimate, with no crowd, which I very much enjoyed. It was the first time I've ever read my poetry in public and though my voice was at times shaking and Saule was walking around and about, occasionally talking right at me, this was strengthening and elevating for me.. To hear my voice in an open space, knowing that others are hearing it too... and it was different sensation from the writing workshops, where we all read to each-other. Even more naked. Important. Centering.. Another great thing about the artist residency in Ideas Block was that I could sell my items there. They would take a share of 30% from whatever I've sold, which I consider to be a fair price. And what was important for me more than selling - the opportunity itself, which gave me a sense of settlement and purpose. I've been running an Etsy shop for a few years now, but I've always enjoyed being able to sell my products in person. To see the person who's buying it. Having a conversation. A connection. It's important.. and it's fun! We were selling: paintings, poems, handspun yarns, knitted scarves, music albums, colorful magnets, prints and home-made raw desserts. our breakfast in the studio ideas-block.com/rainbow-room-by-agnieszka-olszewska
"Ideas Block" tagged pictures by Liucija Dervinite For the past two weeks we've been having a LEGO festival. Saule wakes up and goes to her yellow Lego bucket (it's a remain from my childhood and we have not bought any new bricks). I gave her a comfortable mat to spread the bricks upon and a large flat pillow to sit on. Most of the days now we build first thing in the morning, construct last thing in the evening.. These are planes and cars and homes. Lately Saule particularly enjoys putting all the tiniest pieces into a tiny pink suitcase and the two baskets. She's "preparing them to go". We pack the red and yellow apples and oranges (just a small semi-transparent piece usually used for lights), hair brushes and combs, mini hammers, fork spanners and screw drivers, flowers and radio antennas. It's true that after a week of this, and so many hours per day - I didn't feel like making another air plane at 10 pm in the evening, but i do admire Saule's enthusiasm. And her persistence. And focus.. One thing that struck me the most was how she insisted each evening, after playing was done and we agreed to go to bed, that all the bricks, small pieces and whatever we constructed that day - would land back in the yellow bucket. It seems so important to her. Whenever I said said something like "let's not do it now", or "let's do it tomorrow", he would start to protest so fiercely.. It made me feel silly and made me realise that this was the time to give in. We decomposed whatever was built. We separated each single piece and placed them all back into the bucket. The separating part was crucial. Saule wanted them all to be dissolved. I love that! Such a lesson of detachment! And really, at first, I did not want to say bye to the four air planes I have build an hour before with such care. But anyway - what would we use to build on the next day?.. And what would the air planes do? Look pretty? Gather dust?.. So i claimed my one last way of attachment and took pictures : > I am fascinated by the way Saule puts the items on the board.. the alignment, how she chooses the place for them and what she chooses to stick there. It is way different from the way I would order things around and it seems to dissolve some confining spell from around my head and eyes.. one that I haven't even known was there..
I feel inspired and refreshed and very grateful to witness this. Both: creating and destroying. Today I had a glimpse of what a Mother Studio could look like.. feel like..
We visited my friend in her studio that she's now sharing with her partner. It is Her, Him, and their Son. Beautiful atmosphere, colours, smells.. music instruments around, yarns, textile and ceramics... Egle is a weaver and she dyes yarn by hand. I will submit a conversation with her in one of the future posts. I heard of the "idea behind the work" many times.. artists describing their work, explaining the story behind a sculpture, a painting, an instalation.. and I could never find myself in this.
My ideas came out of Nowhere, it seemed, they weren't thoroughly planned - just waves of inspiration flowing in - how could I ever shape them into sentences or captions? And then recently I've read Lenka Clayton's manifesto - an artist statement for her project Artist Residency In Motherhood - I dare to say it changed my life! It was so empowering to realise in the past few weeks what is it that I wish to do artistically, how to proceed and why! I re-found myself in so many ways, saw myself at different, new angles. I gave voice to my callings... One by one.. working at nights or (more chaotically) throughout the day, just to put down these words. Brainstorm more. Discover more.. Right now I feel I can play with descriptions - I can really dive deep into myself by asking: what is this idea about? What do you want to make? And then letting the answers pour... My hand moving, noting all of it. After many years - I meet my dreams again and give them fresh clothes and a firm chair to sit upon. Thank You Lenka, for ARiM, and Egle, for introducing me! |
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August 2020
May all mothers find peace in this creative universe and often rest their heads on its playful lap ♥
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