I have never known what to do with the creative energy I have. 

It’s not a run-till-you-sweat energy. 
It’s not a debate-with-fervor kind of energy, either.

It’s full of color and light. Sometimes I recognize it when I come across something that brings joy through my eyeballs… (I call that “eye-candy.” It’s so sweet and delicious to behold that my soul feels nourished.) I get a rush of connection with the universe and all its mysteries, a sense of belonging and love. In these moments I feel grounded, alive, and somehow seen. 

When I was a kid, I drew cats, apparently. (I found an old sketchbook that I never would have remembered I had.) In high school, the only reason I ever went to school was to go to a drawing class, where I would sit with two friends and draw with colored pencils – I won a prize in a competition actually! After high school, while living and working in the Rocky Mountains, I would occasionally attempt an acrylic painting of the mountains. In junior college, along with classes in sociology, public debate, and acting – (oh, the joy of junior college!) – I took basic design, painting and photography. 

When I transferred to a four-year college, I majored in art for a semester, and honestly, I loved it. My favorite classes of all 5 years of college courses were an art history class (history through the eyes of people really paying attention!) and a photography class.

My step father bought me my first camera – an SLR with some lenses. My Dad gave me his old camera, a family friend gave me an old medium format camera that I messed with a few times… I really loved the gear and the opportunities for capturing beauty on my hikes, around town, when a pet would wander by… Also, how wonderful that I was so supported in my interests!

At some point, I was under the impression that art was no way to make a life, so I graduated with a degree in international relations instead. It was a big shift, but it allowed me to continue to explore new perspectives.

Right after college, I took a job taking kid’s sports photos at one point, and I really sucked at it. The pressure to snap pictures around other people was NOT a strength of mine. I took some photos for a local newspaper that my husband was writing for, too. That was fun, but not especially rewarding. However, I still loved the process of photography, so I treated myself to a DSLR and a wonderfully big lens.

Then, after we were married, my husband and I embarked on our new life together, living and traveling in other countries for several years. I carried my camera and lenses with me and took many photos that I’m proud of. 

But eventually I got tired of lugging a big, expensive camera around. I got tired of engaging with the most beautiful moments through a viewfinder, instead of my own eyes. It began to feel like a burden. 

Finally, I sold the big lens. I left my camera at home and took in the sights and sounds around me with my own eyes, in fleeting moments that would go uncaptured. It was incredibly freeing! 

Smartphones came out and I got one. When our son was born, I took out the DSLR whenever I could, to capture the wonderment of his magic. But mostly I ended up with my phone camera, because it was so accessible. And while I took tens of thousands of photos with it, the act of art was really sort of lost with it. 

Throughout the last ten years of raising my son, in addition to attempting to capture all the beautiful moments of his growing up, I have dabbled in sketching, watercolor, gouache, ink, block printing, digital art, embroidery, and even West African drumming. I designed and planted a big garden at our new house with my husband. I cooked and baked constantly. Oh, and I made two kalimbas out of wood and rake tines. Those things are awesome. 

Maybe because I’m so good at dabbling, I haven’t really established a strong relationship with any one medium. Every once in a while I’ll end up with something that speaks to me – something I’m proud to put my name to. But then I try to replicate the style and it’s not the same, and my curiosity pulls me in another direction. This is where I’m at right now, and I know I’m growing because of it.

Right now, I’m finding that digital collage is extremely satisfying – I mostly only use my own photographs, and I get to add and change and adapt them to my inner world.

In 2023, we sold our house and moved to another country. Finally, after many years of homeschooling, attempted homeschooling and unschooling, my son has found a small school where he is thriving. Everyone is happy and adjusting… and I am left to my own devices for several hours a day. I want to finally look deeper into this creative energy that never seems satiated. I also want to contribute to our finances. I find myself stuck in a crossroads, unsure which path to follow: art, paid work, or a combination of the two. 

So I’m publishing a blog. I’m gonna put my struggles out there. I’m gonna put my successes out there. I’m gonna practice voicing my experience in a more public sphere and see what comes of it. I’m gonna do it anonymously at first, to help me get over the hurdle of my own shyness in public spaces.

So far, it’s proving to be a wonderful way to dip my toes back into project management and actually focus on the work I want to do.

I feel like I have such precious few hours in the day to devote to myself and my own endeavors, that I don’t know which way to go. Do I practice my artistic skills and get really good at one medium? Do I focus on some side hustle job that will make a little money? Do I figure out how to do both? 

There must be other moms out there who struggle like this. Who don’t know what to do with themselves after a decade of child rearing and no real career to return to. Who are driven to create with their hands and their minds but don’t know which path to follow. 

Maybe putting this out there will forge some connections.