Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Fine Art of...

My profile says I'm a mother, a painter, and a teacher. These descriptors overlap in so many ways, and have so much in common, that it is impossible to pry them apart. Instead of feeling fractured ("there's no there there") I more often wonder at how the kind of artist I am is also the kind of mother I am is also the kind of teacher I am, and on and on. And so, when I found myself with the following poem in my head this morning in the shower, I was unsure whether to title it "Mother's Diary" or "Painter's Diary", or even "Teacher's Diary":
Day passes. Night comes.
What's been done's undone
and under the moon
the clematis descends
the trellis, unwinding
leaf and vine and blossom down
to become a seed again
ready to test the strength
of the ground.


  1. Sounds like the "chicken and the egg" argument. Not sure which came first: the artist, the mother, or the teacher (at least I do not know, YOU do). But then again, I could define myself as a student at day one, but I didn't really become a "student" until I started to care about my purpose in studying art. I doubt it is less a question of what percentage of YOU is artist, mother, or teacher, because in the end you must be all of those things everyday. Instead I think you are superwoman ;]

    -Sara Croft

  2. From one superwoman to another, thanks! Sounds like you're enjoying the IMA...we were singing your praises yesterday in the summer class. "That Sara Croft, she is one smart cookie (etc., etc.)