Being an artist and a parent, the never ending story

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When you're young and wild and you want to become the next HR Giger, having children is the last thing you can consider.

First, you're an anarchist and will die young.

Second, you hate children. They're all about screaming and pooping, you're way above that.

Third, you will never find the ideal partner who'll make you want to share your precious chromosomes.

Then you enter art school and start to consider being a full time honored artist.

And years pass by, you're getting better and better in your speciality.

And (BAM!) your hormonal clock starts tickling. At the same time you meet your amazing future husband, after years and years of romantic wanderings. Between the borderline depressive artist lovers and the radical anarchists who takes you to Pantera gigs there he stands, smiling, luminous and you start to think that making babies with this man will be something to consider after all.

(and he likes Guinness, you're lucky!)

Two years after here you are, trying to go on with your art while carrying a 4 kilos+ enormous belly.

But you're tired and honestly, all you want to do instead of grabbing a brush is to sleep and prepare your nest for the little one.

And then...

(Yes, 3 years after you made it again, still marveling about the little miracle you created)

And then you realize your creative spirit is just gone. Disappeared, just like that. The way you expelled your placenta, there went the inspiration. Even the nausea when smelling oil painting is still there.

What to do? You start to explore other ways to express yourself. Being a mom is not that bad after all. 

But still, something's missing.

Then the kids grow up, and you start to get out of the mist of fatigue you've been living into since 6 years and see things more clearly. 

And that's when it comes back, almost crushing you.

You NEED to start to create again.

So despite of your family and friends telling you you should make another baby (why not, the first two are so beautiful and intelligent. It would be a crime not to create another soul!), you hang on to your IUD, grab your pencil and start again. And oh goddess, it's like you never stopped. 

No. 

In fact, it feels better!

And now a whole new world opens right front of your eyes. The rich and frustrating life of an artist with children. And that, my dear friends, is the hardest part of the story.

One of my next blog posts will be about all the important things you need to know if you want to be a parent and living as an artist. But right now I've got cheeks full of chocolate to wipe.

See you there!

Anko

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