My finger hovered over the ‘return’ button, ready to send the email where I explain to my awesome boss at my awesome job that I was leaving. My daughter Emerson was 10 months old, trying desperately to walk but falling instead, clinging while wanting independence … you might know the stage. I hovered and hesitated because I had already given so much of myself to creating, birthing, and caring for this little human. How could I possibly give up this, too?
As hard as it was and as many feelings as I felt, I did. And I’m glad. Now, once again, it’s time to update my resume. My girls have grown to school-age leaving me more time to myself. Now, nearly one year has passed since opening my online art shop, my life-long dream. But a small worry is nagging me: How do I explain my absence of a “steady work history" after leaving my career to care for my daughters?
I researched but most of the articles I found were largely unhelpful for my experience and situation. They were directed more so to those laid-off, or changing careers, or quitting and traveling, or similar. None about motherhood. This position is not often referred to as a "job" so upon reflection why did it sound like one? What exactly did I do doing those years? Turns out, I did a lot. Too much at times while always thinking it was too little. I never had a lack of steady work; I was tasked with increased responsibility and I adapted in kind. I am a boss girl to the max.
My resume has now been updated, the creation and the raising of these little humans now humorously reflected in my work history.
I'm pleased to reveal the final 2020 commission piece. It was the sole project for the last two months and I'm so incredibly pleased and proud of how it has come to life.
I have to be honest – it was incredibly difficult to keep this commission a secret for so long. The piece was a Christmas gift and it had to be kept a secret as its for one of my amazing friends. During our last catch-up he mentioned wanting something for his house and I had to steer him into not buying something until "after Christmas". I'm not one to be devious so this was terribly difficult!
Time to spread some merry cheer! Join The Collector to get access to the 2021 new year sale. All artwork will be up to 40% off for Collectors only until January 15, 2021. The shop is otherwise closed until after the sale. Happy browsing!
A sunrise and sunset landscape duo will be entered into the Peterborough City Gallery exhibition. I love watching the watercolor washes interact. New colors emerge and shapes are defined by saturation and transparency. One more painting to make for the exhibition and then will be submitting the last week of October. Exciting!!
In addition to my paintings and collections, my watercolors can be found on fabrics, where you can make what you'd like, or homewares, decor, and wallpaper. I'll be updating this shop frequently and will release new patterns within The Collector community.
Collectors will have the chance to browse the Just Beyond collection in a beautiful and modern virtual exhibition space. By using a computer mouse or keyboard arrows, one can "walk" through the space and view the artwork on the walls.
I'll be reshooting my artwork this weekend (morning light has beens superb lately) and get my art into the virtual gallery in time for the Collectors-only pre-launch on September 4th. I'm considering one wing for the framed originals and one wing for giclée prints.
If you build an exhibition, send me the link as I never turn down a gallery visit.
"Bourgeois uses the spider, both predator (a sinister threat) and protector (an industrious repairer), to symbolise the mother figure."
I first learned of Louise Bourgeois in the National Gallery of Art Sculpture Gardens in Washington, DC. This was in our pre-kids era and we used to go for jazz and sangria on hot summer nights, dipping our toes in the pond. Wandering through the gardens, my intense fear of spiders kept me from one of the most fascinating interpretations of the "mother". It wasn't until I visited the Bilbao Guggenheim that I really felt a connection with these sculptures (still couldn't touch them though) and the artist Louise Bourgeois.
Quietly exploring her exhibition space along, my husbands rocking our sleeping one year-old, I realized some of my negative feelings and experiences toward "Hollywood" motherhood were being validated in an unexpected and pleasing way. Even now, thinking back, I'm not sure I can put the experience into words; I just remember the experience being quiet and loud, and eerie and comforting, simultaneously. To say the very least, it was unforgettable.