And I wonder why it is that I have to do this: toss everything inside of me up into the air so often I never feel really settled. For a while I felt I was getting there. Slowly, but still getting there. Slowly polishing an illustration, and then another. Slowly brainstorming about ideas and slowly sorting through them to try and feel where I should lay my focus and when. Slowly reading books about creative business to see if I could learn of a way to do this.
Because I don't know.
I really don't know how all those other mothers do it. I don't. I read descriptions of work during naps, during nights and with baby by the feet. And I try. But I can't make it work. Naptime works ok sometimes. If we are not out walking. Which is usually when baby falls asleep. So I try to keep all my art and business things in a bag. Packing and unpacking and sometimes actually managing to bring what I need/want. Nights? What a joke! It is 9.30 now. Both children have been asleep for half an hour and I am nackard. My body almost pulling itself to bed as I write this. Baby by the feet? Yes. Every now and then that also works.
Maybe it is I who hasn't understood that, yes, it did take all those mamas months and months and months before something was finished. Maybe I have missed crucial information like: Oh, yes my youngest is five years now, during the baby and toddler years I just slept when I could.
Or maybe it is me.
I think it is me.
I seem to be more unfocused then others I know. And I am sure my insecurities are hempering me. The fact that when I see all the beautiful things that are done by other artists here on the internet I just want to sit down and cry. Because I feel so sure that I am just kidding myself. Who would ever want to take part in what I do? How can I even think for a moment that someone is actually going to by something I drew? Ha! And where are all those wonderful projects and artpieces I keep telling myself I am going to make? I never finish anything, do I?
And so on and on.
Until I feel so heavy I can barely move my feet. Except I have to.
I know what I need to do. I know I can't worry too much about what other people think. About what I think other people think. I know I cannot wait for somebody else's approval or pat on the back. I have to support myself. Cheer myself along. Inside me sits the child, still waiting for someone to say: of course you can do it! Your art is wonderful! And so are you! I know that I am the one that child is waiting for. I just don't know how to go about it yet.
Sometimes I think I am so used to my insecurities that I'll never really do what it takes to get rid off them. Like those old ugly jumpers you don't want to wear outside the house anymore, you don't really want to wear them at all, but you don't throw them away, you toss them back into the closet because you never know what could happen, or something like that. I do throw away old clothes more than other people though. Maybe it's my subconscious trying to be funny :).
Anyways, days like this I feel so blessed to have this outside my door. I love it. I do. It is so beautiful it makes my heart cry and sing at the same time.
Trees have a spirit. I am sure of it.
Love!
Robin
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